Five times I gulped again,
The Welsh hillside, on a winter’s night,
Saved by the telegraph pole,
Then gasping for breath, I accepted it all,
Yet was reprieved. Twice.
Appendix bursting in a rear seat,
And the Lockerbie airplane,
As the wind blew in the mountains of NH,
Almost dismounting me,
For the last time.
These breaths are were not my last.
For a reason to be determined.