Dawn awakens me
and I
spring up, mimic youth, act out great
and meaningless breaths of morning air.
I know it’s always there
beneath created surfaces.
Noon time finds some work for me.
I take it freely, but long for morning…
Can I even mimic it
while I start the heavy lifting
eat fried lunches on a break
In the evening it is cool, damp with dense air
In the concrete prairie, air is mild and breathable
But it is choked by smog and longing
The night surroundings soon become the dew
And I will step upon it, into the next dark night.
Creatures of the body, we
seem to exist, sometimes say we don’t, questioning
(aimless)
(though the subtle animal
fires, smoulder in the limbs
burn in the lungs, somehow even without oxygen
it seems as we run breathless, but perhaps
are saving that one last breath
of morning air
before the mindless sleep.
– Sam Kaspar
- patchy sky on bare tree – photo by Sam Kaspar
Born in Canada, I live, work, row, and hike in the US. I most enjoy crafting around a hopefully memorable core which formed the initial reason I felt it was worth writing in the first place. Ultimately, even brilliant ideas are useless if they cannot be conveyed eloquently, hence poetry. Definitely live in the moment, but sometimes a just-right photograph makes it even more special, commemorating the moment and space as they were. When a photograph, especially in nature, is very hard to forget, it’s a keeper.