work: n. the transfer of energy from one physical system to another, especially the transfer of energy to a body by the application of a force that moves the body in the direction of the force.
this is what she means when she says
it’s hard to breathe
silence hums like an oxygen tank
she fades
into the chair
on the surface
she sees you
touch her
you are a fallen tree branch
you are evaporation
a ribcage rises
a windpipe struggles
the air is already
saturated
touch her
you can hear her say that this
is what she means
smoke 
Oof. Beautiful.
thanks, jjs.
and I like your “escaping air” sound…
😉
Right on the nail!
thanks, stan.
🙂
That caught me by surprise; it’s an interpretation of ‘work’ that I hadn’t considered. A stunning beautiful piece. Well done.
thanks, misky.
my mind wanders in strange places.
🙂
Wow, Angie, that is very delicate and nice.
Pamela
thanks, pamela.
🙂
Oh Angie, this dances lightly across my spirit…..
thanks, brenda. 🙂
I’m not sure it’s coming across as intended, based on what it is about for me — but that’s ok. I want people read their own lives into my poems. I don’t like to explain them because that may change what a person sees — as in you’re reading “dances lightly” and I don’t want to darken that for you with explanation. I think poems should be part poet’s words and part reader’s interpretation, leaving a big space in the middle for what the poem wants to be.
does that make any sense whatsoever?
oh, well.
on to day 6…
😀
I can see the darkness..and yes…your reply to my comment makes perfect sense. People often read something other than what we mean in our writing. The bit of wine I had was also dancing lightly on my spirit last night. 😉
gotta love that dancing wine…
😉
This is beautiful and I can only echo the others before. That’s okay though, some things are well worth repeating,
Elizabeth
thank you, elizabeth. 🙂
Angie, you know I’m a big fan of your haiku, but the longer pieces (you know… really, really long like this one) I just love them. They are so fine and slightly detailed, leaving ample space for the imagination. Awesome.
Chris
oh, thank you, chris!
I’ve noticed after practicing all these tiny poems, it’s a different process for me now with my *long* poems. I want to cut out so many words. I seem to have a new aversion to adjectives, and I seem to think in juxtaposed images. 🙂 I’m glad it works for you — and it’s nice to hear that it does. sometimes I wonder if I leave too much to the imagination. I just feel like poems should be quick and wide open for the reader’s own ideas. I know myself — I sure don’t want to read a long poem full of complicated language… 😀