Breathing Winter
"All of us so fragile; each breath we rattle, visible for an instant then lost to the night..."
Breathing Winter
—for Fred Hopson A breath in winter; this life so gentle drifts like steam rising from the mouth, All of us so fragile; each breath we rattle, visible for an instant then lost to the night. Voices breathe out to me, words warm as fire, “Come in from the cold before you catch your death.” And though the party is inviting, and the company, divine; I prefer to dwell upon the threshold where I can see my breath.
Matt Layne writes…
Breathing Winter is a poetry prayer.
Twenty-five plus years ago, I received one of those dreaded phone calls that a friend had been in an accident. He was clinging to life by a mere thread. I thought of him and our shared experiences: traveling to see Grateful Dead shows, camping, hanging out with friends on warm southern nights where the songs of cicadas can drown all conversation, or the winter holiday parties where we crammed into a friend's one bedroom apartment on the southside of Birmingham only to eventually flee the clouds of cigarette, sensemilla, and sativa smoke to get a breath of fresh winter air on the balcony. I thought of him out there alone, and I wrote this prayer down in hopes that he might come back inside to stay with us a bit longer.
All that first week, I'd get a phone call saying he probably wouldn't make it another day, but each morning, he was still here, and he got stronger and stronger, and before long, he woke up. I'm happy to report Fred is still in the midst of this party, and I hope you get to meet him before they turn out the lights and send us all home.
wonderful thank you!
So beautiful! Achingly poignant & profoundly hopeful.