Lifetimes (landays)

Chasing fresh chickens for tomorrow

I trip on yard roots the day cook would thrill to gather

My grandmothers squirrel me away

In unfindable closets, powder me to sweetness

The glass jags. I burst. Forget, forget!

The light burns before I come clean, the swim washes past

I catch the children falling through me

From trees I can't see to paths I can't reach with these toes

I speak alone. In sleep, in old rooms

I echo the bodies that build the chains that don't crack

I breathe the code. You dial the gods

Don't make it hard. These fields of mercy are ripening