Poem: Gasp

Life teaches from 

one point 

to another 

that maybe there is

no pot of gold 





that finds you standing

pretty much where you 


And beauty is reflection 

something that makes 

optical love to 

the brain 

leaving short circuits

until the next 

gasp is taken 


12 thoughts on “Poem: Gasp

  1. Sometimes the pot of gold is the small bits that we get here and there while waiting for the next gasp???

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