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Pneuma
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This is the rhythm of foot to floor, carpet the color of chaos, the torque of entropy, the nature of breathing. Theophany, sophistry, archetype - pennies in a wishing well.

Breathe. Yes, breathe.
Inhale: Peacock days, staccato variations.
Breathe out: Pneuma.

The wind is what it is, this wincing dust, sweet anima. A patina of silence, vining, the nature of it. Odd mandala. Yes. Breathe the peacock day.

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EA Lynch
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Copyright © EA Lynch
August 2000

...a poem in this room by Nissa D. Holtkamp...
here there be dragons
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