She BreathesA Poem by KeriChange is coming in gusts. Is it primal awe
or the wind stealing my breath?
It catches all of me, threatening
to lift me from comfort until reverence prevails,
demanding that I lift my arms to soar.
Wait—
a tollbooth and I don’t have pockets.
But just when my feet are expecting consequences,
the Director of Anemos yells, “Cut!”
© 2008 KeriReviews
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