To Breathe
A breath has never had
A need for nicety –
It is simply taken,
Grabbed from the air.
The Long Night
Morning. And I remember
You and the night –
Both soft, supple,
Smooth and unwrinkled.
Now you bring us coffee,
And what I see is
An old woman
Hobbling on her cane.
Could it be the night
Was much, much longer
Than we ever dreamed.
Nonetheless, tonight is another night.
Edward Michael Supranowicz has had artwork and poems published in the US and other countries. Both sides of his family worked in the coalmines and steel mills of Appalachia.