Afterlife
And then I rose
to the dazzle of light, to the pine trees
plunging and righting, themselves in a furious wind.
To have died and come back again
raw, crackling,
and the numbness
stunned.
That clumsy
pushing and wheeling inside my chest, that ferocious
upturn
I give myself to it. Why else
be in a body?
Something reaches inside me, finds the pocket
that sewed itself shut, turns it
precipitously
out into the air.
