What is the line between life and death—a line not obscured by death in life,seemingly alive, but hidingwith dead things at hand:this paper (the death of a tree)this plastic pen (the death of land and sea)a usefulness, a profit, life killed (thoughwell-used, excess can help others live).What is the line between life and deathfor those who’ve left everything—escaped—not me who simply jettisons excess cargo—What is the line? The one before the thought“I’m awake; I’m alive; let me keep moving.”
The line before “As long as I have breath . . . “
My blog poems are rough drafts.