Does it let you breathe
When you see the oak dresser
We found by the old highway
Or the warped headboards on
The bed where we slept

Does it let you breathe
When you hear the Traffic songs
That once filled our empty rooms
Or songs of George Gershwin
We played twice a year

Does it let you breathe
When you smell the ocean wind
As it drifts through Georgia pines
Or the mountain rain that
Fell upon the tin roof

Does it let you breathe
When you taste the Absolut
That put me to bed at night
Or the Maxwell House coffee
That welcomed each new day


II

I hold my breath tight
As I leap from the old dock
Where we kept our schooner berthed
And search the silted bottom
For pieces of us

My sides cramp with pain
As I find the silver frame
From that smiling wedding day,
And I bring it to the dock
To set it upright

My jeans are like lead
As I return to the sea,
Chilled and weighted by the past,
And just beyond my reach lurks
The idol I seek

My lungs stretch and bend
As I search the hallowed bay,
Heaving and aching to burst,
Filling with saltwater to
Take my breath away.

Phil Rice / Canopic Jar #9, 2001