In the Calm

and the clear, I found a way back to my body. The snake

danced with the birds and the branches. Her loose shirt

made a rhythm of waves. And when I awakened

buildings blushed with kisses and the flutterings of wings.

Everything was silent, for once, in the ground. Certain

skies

departed. A guitar sang from a narrow street-footsteps rose

and turned-in the open windows the ghosts of silk-dyers

let down their hair.

In the dead swirl of air we were all together. Stone by stone,

the tiniest hill made us twilight. Fireflies ignited

and the smoke was fragrant with scallions and roasted

potatoes. Dogs played like flowers. Grown-ups in black,

grown-ups in costume. And we kids

tried to laugh even louder, so loudly our lungs and bug-eyes

and weakening throats sounded something like unheard-of

distance

and real laughter, and, when I woke up, the really real.