Opening in the Sky

by Preston Hood

Before the dead crawl out, I stitch it up
with the white line of my thinking
& watch the sunrise.  I enter the mist
though a wall of pain, tingle all over
when I breathe.  A woman’s lovely hips
flash across the day.  I divide

time into quarter moons,
halved apples,
hours of need & love.  I Listen
to the music – trumpeted lilies,
the mathematical beat
squeezed between tit & birdsong:
right now, right now.