April 16: The Last Breath

If I could imagine the last breath

life on this planet would take,

think underwater, 

that struggle for air, 

and then, truly, an ending.

Not even pandemic will alter

what we all must face at some point.

Not the time for joking

as family gathers by the window or 

an open door, unable to step near. 

I can only whisper, "Cherish each day,

for they are numbered."

What lies beyond is 

unknown and measured

by more than a gasp.

"Polar Bear" by Echoyan (Pixabay)

Today's prompt comes from Robert Lee Brewer who asks us to write a fill-in-the-blank poem that starts, 'the last . . . .' We're supposed to begin by filling in that missing word. I want to write positive poems just now that will affirm the beauty of each day, despite the effects and tragedies of coronavirus. But it's pretty hard to work around the implications of 'last'.

So, I'll tell you about today's first. I cleared my cork board off and posted 3x5 cards to seriously begin plotting for the next book. I only know 2-3 main characters and the setting -- Egypt. All else remains a mystery. Well, except the story will involve art crime, danger, and romance. Maybe a distraction for the days ahead!  Meanwhile, stay calm and safe. Cherish each day!