Ilse Pedler

 

 

 

Breathing

 

Sometimes in the car I forget to breathe,

almost. Respiration reduces to

tiny transactions reluctant to leave

 

any trace. Warm skin and car seat a new

union, matter overcoming mind,

the windscreen a cornea to see through,

 

the heartbeat of wipers. I am confined

until a sickening jolt of preservation,

a shriek of tyres. Less than seconds defined

 

by red lights focussed, the dislocation

of time, and a density of fears

like a stone, but with the termination

 

of burnt rubber on tarmac, it appears

there are only white lines stretching on for years.

 

 

Ilse Pedler has had poems published previously in Poetry News, Prole, 14, Poetry Salzburg Review, Ink, Sweat and Tears and The North among others. She has also had poems in 2 anthologies. She works as a Veterinary Surgeon in Saffron Walden.

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