Aham
She shuts the car door
The Dublin wind whips among the UCD buildings
The joggers and the laughter and the youth
Spending their air like it will always be there
Her hiking stick steadies the way
Silently, apart from the wheezing that is
Steps inside
The air suddenly warmer
The carpet though feel like setting concrete
The oxygen debt falls due before the chair is reached
The bill lands red against the chest
The heart runs fast
The digital numbers sink
A passing glance
A nod that knows the score
No panic in her eyes
Just room to let the lungs coax the numbers back up to green
The quiet of someone who has seen
The soul that outlives the body
The back rests on the chair
The jaw relaxes
The pursed lip let out the trapped co2
Aham.
