It is of purely ornamental value; blithe as a cirrus cloud, invertebrate as a whisper and with no real capacity for attack. So let's let it live the duration of its brief life span, floating between us as illusive as a dust moth, harmless, and only as tangible as the pieces that roam the slim discrepancy between consciousness and sleep. Death is inevitable. Breathe, and its feathery wings will begin their panic. Breathe again, and your breath will lunge toward it like a breeze vanquishing a dandelion.

Lane Falcon (IL)  has had her work appear in Milk Magazine, Wicked Alice Poetry Journal and The 2004 Chicago Poetry Festival Anthology. She is receiving her MFA from Goddard College.