Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Breathing

The first breath is the hardest.
The one that comes in
and slows the others down,
the one that says it is o.k. to take in,
to fill up,
to allow.
Without the first breath
there is nothing.
It is as if someone stopped the ocean’s rise and fall.
This morning the rain came
and blew winter through my front door.
I did not stop to gather the fallen branches
or stand to gaze at the clouds.
I unwrapped my hair and let it slide down my back
then pulled a knitted hat over my head.
I tried not to lick my lips
or leave myself vulnerable to the cold.
I breathed shallow breaths
as if the air were toxic
and taking it in would kill me.
It is hard not to remember
what can hurt you.
It becomes as involuntary as breathing.