Heirs to Airs

Woke up in the world

Instantaneous sending of smoke into the atmosphere

A burst, like a match head, struck, the wooden stick of Palo Santo

Wisps and vapors

A stirring of the underlying consciousness of the imagination

Vornado fan spinning on full blast

Fresh from shower skin

Pockets of darkness and cool

Bursts of buds of spring/bursting in revolutions into the radical

*   *   *

There
out
in the air

*   *   *

Nascent nests sing of a generation of regeneration

Where a crow cawed
in the
recognition
of

what it saw: Something savage/Something raw.