A single diaphonous breath, entrusted to the tides,
dodges ships and sharks, pollution and phantom-like jellyfish.
Reaching land, it runs many miles through the aquifiers,
beneath rocky canyons and verdant fields.
Turned to steam, it will rise up through some subway grate
to surprise you in Tucker Square, where you are contemplating radishes.
You will feel it on your cheek, a mere drop of humidity,
as warm and as wet as the lips of a woman you used to know.
Angela Campbell is a scribbler based in East Auckland, New Zealand. She will never be one of poetry’s cool kids – she has too much fun with it. For any success she does have, she wishes to acknowledge Mrs. Bull, her primary school teacher (whose encouragement fanned the flames of Angela’s passion for writing) and all educators, everywhere, whose dedication makes a difference in the lives of children.