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Kathleen A Keena

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Member Since: Oct, 2004

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Raw Air
by Kathleen A Keena

Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Kathleen A Keena
•  Don't Look
•  Hear Your Absence
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•  Steely Knives
•  Protect Me
           >> View all 257

Raw Air


The air was raw and wet
as I stepped outside.
I had stayed at her place
but now knew
how run down, how used,
her complex was.
It was as if she transformed it
every visit,
creating magic with lighting,
reflections and music.
To tell you the truth
I never knew
how shabby,
how strong the cigarette smoke was
until I unlocked her door
and stood there alone.

As I say,
the air was sopping wet,
like the Keys at dawn
and next

I'm stepping out the door,
but I'm stepping out alone.

And even if I pretend
I am all the way down to Florida,
the hospital is still
a block away,and
there are some still
who won't be saved.






Kathy A Keena

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Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader) 10/25/2006
I have my uncles funeral next week..I relate to this..
Reviewed by alejapoet@aol.com Bennett 10/25/2006
Very well written.
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