Tag Archives: next to our mother

Sound of Breathing

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

This morning
the wind through the trees
sounded like air
through giant bellows,

like large lungs
breathing in air
and out air,

Like we felt,
next to our mother
as infants,
a great pair of lungs
that we knew somehow was

the source of life.

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Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry