I'm not sure that we ever make it easy. We are
frothy with longing like we've always been, like
a bathtub we stepped out of, stepped back in.
Who decides our life? I saw turkey vultures
out my window riding the wind a couple of days
ago and I was jealous of them. You know how it is:
the trees were bent over almost in half.
This Kentucky wind lipped over our chimney
but they were so still, hovering, like paintings
of birds, so far above our backyard.
The sky was a countertop and they
were lonely peppercorns. I breathed in and out
while their slow, controlled orbit looked like, I
could swear under my breath, joy.
Untethered, they all faced in different
directions, together, but roped in their own
song. They seemed like they were happy. They
could have been, right? I could be too, right?
by: Kristina Erny