You Drew Breath

as a boy draws something silver from a river,
an angler from the sea a bale of weed;
as a woman draws herself from a bath,
as blood is drawn from a vein.
You drew breath as thread is drawn through
the eye of a needle, wet sheets through a mangle,
as steel is drawn through a die to make wire.
and oil draws up through wick its flag of fire.
You drew breath as a reservoir draws from a well
of ink and a mouth and a nose and eyes are drawn,
as money and a bow and the tide are drawn;
as up over her head a woman draws
a dress and down onto her a man.
You drew breath as a cloud draws its pall
across the moon, across the car park
where a sky-blue line draws the way
all the way to Maternity; as all in blue
they drew a semi-circle around the bed,
a line and then a knife across the skin;
as in another room someone drew
a curtain around its runner, a hand across
a pair of finished eyes. You drew breath
as they drew you ā€“ besmeared and blue ā€“ out
and sublime was your fury at being drawn
into this air, this theatre; you drew breath
for the first time ā€“ for a second I held mine.

Greta Stoddart


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