Cough

Unknown-1

 

clotting into a thick mass

dread drops like cottonwood fluff

throughout the soft afternoon

 

I cannot breathe this darkness

too many knots of decay

to choke like thorns down my throat

 

each morning I spit a bit

then find scraps of redemption

as I stumble out the door

 

a new day’s dark-red dawn blurs

a simple numbness unfolds

inevitable and cold

 

I gasp and look to the sky

hopeful I will breathe today

 

(November 30, 2017)

 

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