flickering through

11am light
flickering through limbs
while the wind pulls aspen and elm
leaves (gold shavings)
into twists and drifts across alfalfa fields
in a snowglobe swirl
_______
thunder rumbling and
bluegray sky to the northeast
shifting shape
i crack a window
to let sound in
_______
while lightning squiggles down
an introduction between pot shard
and photograph
(both of whose spirits swirl
while their living bodies
have already been given
back to earth)
_______
i never heard a river say
use this body as a border
so begins the first poem
i have written since
grad school scooped the spirit
out of me like a melon baller
so i fill the room with its lines
my voice
a revival
(other things have been written since
but this is the first being-able-to-write-like-i-used-to /
that-part-of-me-was-never-dead moment)
_______
nobody remembers tower 7 leon says
while the six of us spoon
potato leek soup
to our mouths
_______

there’s only one ocean
leon says in a reference
to mission blue
and a quote from oceanographer sylvia earle

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