Yesterday

An oppressive still has settled the morning. The gray water of the bay is as motionless as concrete. I would like to float from here but cannot find lift even on the breath of these words, they remain stuck on a page weighted with consequence. Yesterday, there were places where I could go, the wild and overgrown far corners of a backyard or high up in the branches of a tall tree in the unfenced freedom of a park at the end of the street. There I was unobserved beneath a sky that was endless and not bent into the lens of a microscope. Birds and newly minted dragonflies flew through the sunlit air lifted by psalms rising ballooned with meaning towards a “somewhere” not circumscribed by a name.