Absolution

 

Not so much the spill

of coral and smear of

marigold orange – wind-

brushed and drifting away

from me – but the firebreak

of blue separating the plane

of the horizon from the

gravel bed of cloud

like a channel of snow-

melt I might rise towards

since it is good to leave the

edge of earth from time to

time and ease into these eddies

and colder pockets of calm,

heart-first and elbow-deep,

where I’d release my grief

and watch it diminish, then

dissolve, in descent, past

the luminescent flow, even

as there is less of me, and,

in that instant, I emerge

without burden, feral and

freshly ravaged, free of

need and breathing in

the air’s sweet blue water.