BREATHLESS

More cotton than you care to see.

There used to be time for driving,

for singing at the top of our lungs,

running, screaming.

Our legs stopped craving the feeling

of being stretched, pushed.

Running with mouths wide open,

tiny yelps greeting clouds of dust.

The field strewn with yellow buds,

a blanket of sunshine.

Driving, we wish we hadn’t forgotten

running breathless, to lay 

in summer-bloomed shade of trees, 

gulping air like water.

Bio:  Laura Rachel Fox ...  Her heart lies in the library, where she served as a Librarian for several years and discovered her love for the profession.  She is currently working to enter the writing field professionally, perhaps through the library, education, or writing.  You can view her recent work at http://rachelspillowbook.blogspot.com/