September 30, 2013



(Another day I almost died)

Thank God for every single breath,
a sliver's slice, twixt life and death.
A fulcrum pin that holds at bay,
Paper thin this precious day.
A mirror's width and single glance,
Shallow scratch sans happenstance.

"This is your's", I declare.
Never before so awe-aware.

 Each light lung-full anther gift.
 As clay ribs draw and lift.

 Alive, I inhale, again.


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