Laura Falsetti

Pulmonary

 
I run as if I’m dreaming
I run with four legs and cloven hooves

 
When I run the earth falls away below me
The earth crumbles like the lip of Mount St. Helens
When I run my lung trees explode like spring
My lungs bleed into the capillaries of my leaves

 
I run very fast and very far
I run because the next turn is the last:
it will be dark again very soon

 
I run because the peonies died years ago
and you never know when you might discover
a hummingbird gasping for breath in your kitchen

 
I run because the moon has come to dread the night–
the fraternal wail of its coyotes–
and because, when I wipe my mouth,
the tissue comes away black.
 

 

Laura Falsetti is a dentist who lives and works south of Seattle. She is also an emerging poet with work published in Cider Press Review, Muse A/Journal, and MockingHeart Review, among other literary journals. In her free time she enjoys hiking the stunning forests of western Washington. She admits to a particular fondness for petit fours from the North Tacoma Metropolitan Market bakery.

 … return to Issue 11.3 Table of Contents.