Air

sight
impinges
on air

divvying it up
night sky
into a cup

black earth
(good omen)
full of mica

suspended overhead
it’s July
I’m full of joy

no steam heat
no cream teat
no dream meat

just walking around
watching the cup
dump its load

right on my head
cool black jelly
fulI of glints

hints
to remind me
of air

Credit

Poems by Kenward Elmslie are used by permission of The Estate of Kenward Elmslie.