Trying To Breath

No final goodbye. No poetic 
apology. No introduction 
to a frightening joke of 
a blue Buddha. 

The neonates were blind. 
There was no alternative, except 
to wish them luck. I wanted 
to leave my pangs with razor points. 

Morality and hunted crimes. 
It was a shadow boxing 
in cryptobiosis. A bleak day 
invites no more clouds. 

You talk to the solitary moon. 
The silence enters the reeds. 
A whistling wakes up the night. 
Death goes for a walk.