Scramblin through the wreckage, I found a page in one of my notebooks from December.
I post it now as the last evidence of winter.
I am the breath that once filled your lungs & now hangs frozen before you. It’s time to fly away now and I will float across the country…
I am beneath the feet that litter the streets: I am breezing through the tree you are too distant to climb.
I fill new space and
I am leaving
As the oxygen,
Leaving as the oxygen that never could be captured by
Nervous hands or felt within
I have pulsed
through veins ignored.
I am my own transient matter…
My own deep call for catalysts.
I am the oxygen—electric.
I am the oxygen with no cautionary goodbye.