even if I can’t find my way out

breath comes easy

fist shaking at a jealous god

whose streetwalkers wear stone-faced smiles

on approach to a landing with no runway

white-walled towers in the distance speak of holy things

dead and dying

and breath comes easy

as I listen to the river whisper of its long journey

my salvation is none of your concern

I will walk in search of it

hoping none will follow

I will go

shedding skin and hair and flesh and bone

until I am only breath

exalted and forgotten

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If you want to hear poetry from some Denver poets you can find episodes of my show, The Poets, over at thepoets.co

Cheers!

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Photo by Alex Hiller on Unsplash