I live in the sky, even when I'm hidden
When I'm down in a basement or burrow
or midden; my breathe is the sky, my narrows
still feel it, and when I hold breath in,
the sky descends into wet within me
i lift it back up from deep below
changeless and changing, my empty grows
in drifts and hefts and maws and leans
Pockets of sky, always come in sealed
building envelopes, autos, malls, and homes
The spirit is with us, the flesh is weak but heals
with spirit and sky and water and tombs
Foaming with flowers, and time, and pain
Reach for the sky, and live with leaves and wings
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