artwork: carl larsson (from an old print)
Unsterile
Environment
by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Around
the globe the wind swirls
in
soft gusts and monsoons carrying particles
of
the quick and the dead
to
our lungs, into our cells,
making
us all, as long as we live—
and
thereafter—part of each other.
We
all breathe—no exceptions—recycled air:
nomad’s
sweat swept on a desert wind, bull elks
panting
in the clash of rut, the last squawk
of
a chicken caught in owl talons, a sick
old
man’s groan. And star jasmine wafting
on
a summer night, pine branches broken under snow,
a
packed-diapered baby’s howl of rage.
I
smile at the new mother
who
wraps her infant against the warm breeze,
double-boils
his bottles of water,
wards
off big family kisses,
as
if the baby weren’t already
inhaling
the second-hand breath of the world.
~
first published in Moondance
