The Word Yes is in Everyone's Eyes
        I imagine yes is the only living thing—ee cummings

The wind unbraids the snakes
from my dream's hair
as I slip outside into dawn's hush.

The frozen grass sparks in the rising
sun's light. A sharp architecture that the horses'
soft muzzles nudge to graze.

As a child I thought grass was alive,
and I asked permission before I stepped.
I may believe it still and listen to the crunch

of my boots and the percussion
of three horses trotting towards me
and my armful of hay.

It's outside that I'm most inside
my body with the sharp keer of the hawk
singing along my spine

and the cold air bristling my face.
Every cloud can be a bird,
and a flock of birds rises from the pasture

as a single swift dark cloud.
See how my breath sends brief
ghosts into the air.

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Copyright © 2021 Malaika King Albrecht All rights reserved
from The Stumble Fields
Main Street Rag Publishing
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission