Each Last Breath

White lines lead the way forward

past the rows of hanged men

We follow along, keep our eyes down

and try to convince ourselves that each last breath

is a gentle wind sighing

There’s no end in sight

not to the wind or the thin white lines

or to the day breaking slow above us

turning the dead to silhouettes so beautiful

that some of us stop for a moment to admire them

Photo by Elina Krima from Pexels

2 thoughts on “Each Last Breath

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