Last Breath by John Grey

Her breath

died like the wind,

one moment blowing,

the next totally still –

no, more like a joke,

a burst of laughter,

then silence,

when the joke

didn’t seem so funny

after all -

no, like people

at an airport,

one leaving,

the rest staying –

no, make that

one staying behind,

the rest moving on

like the wind.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Hawaii Pacific Review, Dalhousie Review and Qwerty with work upcoming in Blueline, Willard and Maple and Clade Song.