Back to Issue 13

you listen to the sound of my breathing,
not my actual breath—that exchange
of atmospheres, nerve mind, mechanics.
it’s this hiss and sigh, hiss and sigh
you are reading for accent and amplitude
and the exact current of mood, disposition.
a decision is made and it is red. 

i watch your skin tone and your eye cast
and the picture sound your surface vessels make
in the first morning light of our home.
your temperament and inclination, that
precise impulse, the fine pitch i name blue.
and of a piece, we decide the shades of
this day we agree upon and will live in. 

By Philip Newton

Philip Newton is a writer, musician and stonemason living in Oregon. In addition to publishing one novel, TERRANE (Unsolicited Press, 2018), shorter works have appeared in The Hamilton Stone Review, Roanoke Review, Ink in Thirds, Calliope and other periodicals. Philip is a graduate of the Sonoma State University writing program.