Funeral Breathing

on that hill
you can’t climb
like you used to
getting old
never felt so sad
then I love you, wind-
little blur bird
chewing at my heart
string, seizure of light
I hope I come back
a collector of prayers
you hold me
as the ends
unravel, tooth
and golden in
every pore
I listen where
you lead
and where
you drop off
the edge of the earth
I’m not that far behind


©2018 James Diaz


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Bio: James Diaz is the author of This Someone I Call Stranger (Indolent Books, 2018). He is founding Editor of the literary arts & music mag Anti-Heroin Chic. His work has appeared most recently in Occulum and Philosophical Idiot. He lives in upstate NY and occasionally tweets @diaz_james.

You can find James’s pages on FaceBook and Twitter.


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