shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Ken Holland

Page 1 | 2


In my breathing, in the breath that escapes my body
I feel a disturbance, the shimmying of some animal
Primal with fear. With anger.
All that is edged.
And how what remains behind is just my humanity
Stripped down to the leanness of survival.
Without anger. Without edge.
Just the soft breath of fear.