How to Begin

Wipe the crumbs off the counter.

Find the foxtail in the ear of the old cat.

Work it free. Step into your ribcage.

Feel the draft of your heart's doors

as they open and close. Hidden latches

cool in your hand.

Hear your marrow keep silence,

your blood sing. Finch-talk

in the bush outside the window.

You're a small feather, winged seed, wisp

of cotton. Thread yourself

through a hole in the button on the sill.

You're a strand of dark thread

stitching a word to a river. Then another.