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birthing a fire
requires your own oxygen
given up out of lungs
the shadow-overcast, casting shadows
but within a coal, a flame, there may be none
i am still standing after wind has blown and
few leaves remain, dry, thin, brittle
the violin’s high, pure note was long ago
let me fly in a departing flock–
choreographed motion unison, dips and turns and banks and
rest
will chills come again not of cold, of solitude,
but of wonder’s victory and victory’s wonder
trunks turn grey branches splinter surrounding airy substance,
cracks in the atmostphere
pines and the sky deserve reflecting
but how can i
my eyes have lost their flame
i suffocate in any air
but yours
but it’s all
yours
?
kgracecollins 