Darkness sets me humming
live as a wire and like the bearing
down before the birth I clench
around this year’s last days
my heart ragged, stuffed animal
loved too well. I keep
finding new cracks
in the house’s weary plaster.
Outside a pack of children
leads smaller children on leashes
their bright coats calling out
to one another through fog.
Just past high viz in a dun lot
where broken pavement stays put
a blonde woman carefully made up
interviews a miniature horse.
This is the latest news I say
at the end of every letter to my aunt.
When I see a hawk I know
I’m where I’m meant to be
among the headstones or
nearly home, a murmuration
of sparrows fighting back.
I step into the vague
future, slick with arrival.
