First Poem in the New Apartment

It goes without saying that this is a draft.

And Still...

The air is still.
And so am I,
for once.
At last
the stirring has
somehow
ceased.
The ebb and flow,
the constant waves
of emoting,
expressing
the need
to not swallow every scream.
This moment,
however brief,
brings the peace
to face
but not erase
the past
and prepare for whatever
still awaits.

Daisy C. Abreu
August 24, 2007