Brian Rihlmann writes

AN EXTRA BREATH 

As we talked and laughed
while sitting on a riverside bench,
you reached toward me,
and with your fingernail
tore a tangled spider web
from between the slats,
freeing a little grey moth
caught there,
beating frantic wings.

It perched on your finger
for a moment,
until you held it aloft
and gently blew.

You smiled as it flew,
and I breathed 
an extra breath
as something in me
soared.