ISSUE: Winter 2015
my son breathes to leave me
to leave the lean-to
of family: extended and penal
he leaves to breathe up on the highlands
one among many wandering
breathers and sitters who sleep in the rain: gone
in the tide of the primal
my son washes his hands of the west wind
breathes in
the sorrows I gave him
the breathing once hovered over
he rocks back and forth
squinting as he shines in the rain
a rain frail
with potential / total and pale
and unnoticed…
closing his eyes / inhaling: he
holds our breath
