Equinox

Dear child of the near future,

here is what I know-hawks

soar on the updraft and sparrows always

return to the seed source until they spot

the circling hawk. Then they disappear

for days and return, a full flock,

ready. I think we all have the power

to do what we must to survive.

One day, I hope to set a table, invite you

to draw up a chair. Greens steaming garlic.

Slices of bread, still warm. Honey flecked with wax,

and a pitcher of clear water. Sustenance for acts

of survival, for incantations

stirring across our tongues. Can we climb

out of this greedy mouth,

disappear, and then return in force?

My stars are tucked in my pocket,

ready for battle. If we flood

the streets with salt water, we can

flood the sky with wings.