Temporary Living

This breath,

woven into the fabric of my being,

does not belong to me.

A blessing borrowed,

brief in its essence,

unable to be grasped.


If I let go my tomorrow,

for some why,

on some when,

then what am I ?


A breeze careses your cheek.

So tender is each moment.


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allets's picture

Commentary On Life Span

Perhaps a contemplation of life length or its origins. I like the notion of an exhaled breath (as life) against a cheek not belonging to the exhaler, but the recipient. :D ~Lady A~