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Breathing Stillness

Jun 21, 2023

There is time for stillness
hanging quietly in hungry mouths,
sating thirst
you don’t know you have,

a pool in which
a dropped stone
feels only its own weight
against water,

a yearning for bottom
only satisfied
by touching silt,

a moment outside understanding
outside time
when feet find purchase
tether closely until ready.

My map torn
my bearings skewed
from last known coordinates

I know only to seek shelter
letting my stone find silt,
until ready to float.

Originally published in Nymphs Poetry

Written by Audrey Howitt