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| Mitch Kesler |
GHAZAL FOR AIR
One part of our souls will join Zeus in the air.
He does not sit on clouds. He is dispersed in air.
One part of our souls goes to dim Hades
to dwell always in that choking, murky air.
In many languages, spirit and breath
are the same word. Inside us, holy air.
One hot summer day, the forest in flames
stung our noses and thickened the air.
Wear your mask covering both nose and mouth.
Viruses, some lethal, ride on the air.
Soul enters the infant at its first cry.
The soul slips in on an intake of air.
You cannot see the wind, yet it knocks down
the elderly tree. Thread of life severed by air. © Mary Ann Honaker
Enjoy other posts by Mary Ann Honaker HERE.
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| Mary Ann Honaker |
Mary Ann Honaker is the author of Becoming Persephone (Third Lung Press, 2019), Whichever Way the Moon (Main Street Rag, 2023), and the forthcoming Night is Another Realm Altogether (Sheila-Na-Gig, 2026). Her poems have appeared in Bear Review, DIAGRAM, JMWW, Juked, Little Patuxent Review, Rattle.com, Solstice, Sweet Tree Review, Tuskegee Review, and elsewhere. She currently lives in Beckley, West Virginia.
