The machinery of breathing
by Stevie Ronnie
[ poetry - december 11 ]
The combustion engine
that propels me across
the suspension bridge
that connects
the Tarmacadam surfaces
that lead
to her house.
The plastic box
that slides open to
the daily compartments
that feed
the machinery of breathing
that fills
her routine.
The oxygen tanks
that exist behind
the council-blue door
that catches
the lip of wind
that greets
my retreat.
