The Worth of Blood and Breath

This is a very experimental piece for me. It’s Tuesday night, 10:58. I need to et some rest. I’ll return tomorrow and see if some sleep altered my point-of-view.

In a Moment

Let the cat
crouch

behind the watering
can, the mouse
gather fallen

seeds beneath
the birdfeeder.

This is where
death

and life
sit, withered
men

in a barber shop
trading stories:
the good, old days

when breath
and blood

retained
their worth.

The cat
will pounce.
The mouse

will live
or die.

Tis the way.
Old friends
agree.

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6 thoughts on “The Worth of Blood and Breath

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