I keep forgetting to breathe. The fear of dreadful unknowns fills my head. Though, not entirely unknown, having been ravaged by hate, unmanaged pandemics, misogyny, injustice, racism, bigotry, and a planet on fire for these last few horrible years, I am certain another four years of the same insanity would surely undo all that we hold decent and righteous and good. All of this hinging on a simple checkmark in a box, and on the outcome of a fragile, broken system. Not breathing seems a reasonable thing to do in times like these, though not very wise…
ruddy treetops on blue glass
where swans drift slowly
barely forming waves, the air
still, cool as it fills my burning lungs
A TankaProse for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Challenge inspired by the photo above by Trent McDonald and the prompt words Move (drift) and Make (forming).