Steady, Less and Less

The day flickers before us in a thicked-up throb
of questions. What of birds and the peculiarity
of flight — a pattern by which to scratch

existence. What of me and the inexpense of
sitting in a field with your face
to any nameable thing.

When simply the having is enough
will you ask, “How are you
breathing, my girl?”

Shannon Tharp (© 2010)