Deep and mild, fat, warm;
swelled with good rain and growing,
Sleepy bees and song.
These and hazy sun
Drunken on heat and honey;
We all work merry.
Air smells constant of
turned earth and fertilizer
and berries and songs.
The crops all flourished.
Life was richly beautiful
and sweeter than good sighs.
The setting sun baked
her shoulders like wheat freshly
risen into bread
The sweaty comfort
of her small hand clutching tight
her father’s fingers.
In her chest sat a
Certain heaviness, puzzled,
Express and too sad.
She entertained then
The thought that she could collect
gravity in her.
Collect it in her
ribcage and sell it right with the
vegetables to
Whoever wanted
to keep their feet on the ground;
then she might just fly.
Now no longer do
My hands grow and turn good soil;
Now there is but blood.
I have seen such things
And flown farther than once dreamed
Into shadows, love.
I have become a
Weightless creature, unbound yet
Imprisoned willing
By oath and love deep
Deeper than my summers gone
More than gravity.
I do not plant now.
Now, I make jaunts and jesters
Spinning holidays
Knowing we must all
Celebrate while we can yet
Because like those crops
Like those gone summers,
We will reach beyond ourselves
And find what withers.
Laugh now in bright sun
Before your heartbeat fades fast
Smile, my dear darlings.
For even shadows
Fall and fade, their glimmer gone;
We are all stardust.