17 Husked from our tight houses

17                       

 

 

Husked from our tight houses, elat-

 

ed, we fly in the fields, and our wanderings

 

settle us among milkweeds to celebrate

 

the rite of cracking open things.

 

 

 

The ripe birds, shredded, bleed

 

white blood and unfeather each seed,

 

to blow like clouds in the slow day

 

and follow us, floating, every which way.