by Jennifer L. Harmon


Open mouthed silent stalking, feeling the
breath of all that surrounds, and the sounds
of the night air raising its voice in mutual
loneliness with my own.
And running with the breeze, wing tipped,
slip over my skin, seeking something deeper
than that within. Twirling down into the
spiral of all that we seem to be, but are
not. Open mouthed breathing and then
forgotten. Traveling onward in a race of
time, standing in a circle seeking for mine,
and what am i without that which knows me,
and who would know beyond that which i show?
Raising up and seeking the whole. In parts
is all i find! Me and the wind, and images
in my mind, of a place long ago—not far from
here, of a time long past—yet held so dear.
And whence we came we shall forgo,
Lost and Alone with no one to know.