Between each breath
there is still-
ness as from death;
a gentle kiss
of feathers falling.
As a partridge might pretend
it’s wounded to protect
its chicks,
I listen to the reaper calling
in each breath-
less silence
for a hint of death
in heartbeats stalling.
Death
Today Mish challenge us to write Quadrille, 44 words containing the word breath (or breathe) at dVerse.
Come join us.
—
November 21, 2016
Björn Rudbergs writings 
This is unreal excellent my friend!
This is truly one of your best. I so enjoyed reading this several times. The partridge pretending to be wounded,the stalling heartbeats. It all rings so very true to me now, at this point in my life.
You quadrille has a rhythm to it just like breathing, Björn, and I tried reading it aloud – I was breathing with the same rhythm as I read it!
The gentle rhyme supports the pace and I love the reference to the partridge – its not often written about except in Christmas songs!
Oh wow, I had never really thought of that pause between breaths…almost eerie and ominous. This is dark and wonderful.
Love that word break of still-ness and breath-less. The presence of death is ominous even in silence ~
Such sadness in this. Where there is no breath, there is no life. Death will call for us all eventually.
The space here is…well…it’s breathless.
I liked the pairing of these sounds: “feathers falling” and “reaper calling”.
Such a powerful piece, Bjorn! So well done!
Excellent.
I like how you made the break in still- ness and breath- less, one can feel the silence and hovering dark-ness
I found myself breathing to the break of words here. Beautiful!
Oh, THIS!
“a gentle kiss
of feathers falling.”
Love the image of pause between breaths ❤️ Beautifully penned.
Between each breath
there is still-
ness as from death;…love the opening lines!
or a hint of death
in heartbeats stalling.
The last throes of struggle could be discerned from the twisted mourning of nearing death.
Hank
You’ve captured the unreal-ness of live itself. How we exist between breaths we do not control.
The fear of the silence in here is so well crafted that I have to remain true to my own breathing rhythm to stay on my path. A beautiful and very poignant poem.
There is such a delicacy in the choice of words and construction of this piece that feels almost ghostly. It’s ethereal qualities don’t detract from its strength at all.
i appreciated this visit into breathless darkness where we all reside yet dare not speak. and yet we breathe. wonderful ! gracias mi amigo
This is has a haunting quality, with each extended pause the place to fit a breath or a sigh.
Oooh this chills and goes well with the one I posted. I mention the silence between the in and out breath of a baby’s wail and how that silence exacts a toll. Yes.
🙂
Very dark. Intense.
This is beautiful.
This just blows me away, Bjorn. That negative space between breathes. Something so sacred about this–silence, gentleness. Wow!
There is a distinct apprehensive mood here. Which makes the poem intriguing
Thanks for dropping by my blog today Björn
Much love…
Stalling… it is a perfect, too perfect way to describe the sentiment. I also really liked the image of the feathers. When imagined, everything feels so light, so dispellable. In reality, not so.
in each breath-
less silence
for a hint of death…. we are one breath away from death… this poem is so powerfully, beautifully written
I love this vivid description of breathless pauses!
Your pacing with the broken words is really effective in creating the spaces between breaths.
This is so damned beautiful Björn – takes my breath away.
Kind regards
Anna o]
Just wonderful, Bjorn.
Wow! That image of death lurking in between each breath is quite disturbing. Well done!
it’s an eerie feeling…so brilliantly put!
This has an ominous feel. To me, your piece underscored the fragility of life.
Ohhhh, very beautiful. Just love these rhymes, so nice.
Best not breath, Bjorn. I have always thought that sneezing is that way, that the heart even stops then.
..
This is a truly lovely little piece – especially when read aloud. I don’t know: the words … the word breaks – some magical je ne sais quoi, but it just seems to float off the page. Up there with some of your best writing, Björn.