I spent a restful rainy day reading Toni Morrison's God Bless the Child. Her writing draws me inward, and I wrote this poem in response.

Creative Writing: A collection of poems based on the week’s writing

Longing is different than wishing

Wishing is a breathless moment

with little effort in the puff of air

an embarrassed whisper to the unknown

on a blade of grass a star a blown out candle

so silent in its utterance that the disappointment is barely felt

but for

the ache between the shoulder blades

as if the effort cut the sinew that holds the air within

that leaks and stains the surrounding air

permanent

not to be erased but fading  

dissipating at the edges

but in and out with each swish of blood and air

through hollowed lungs

still longing for breath