How We Inherit the Sky

it is said

death has no brothers

and we do not keep anything

from here

our memory takes to the dark like

our hands to a prayer

to the fields freshly razed

how we inherit the sky

as it is as it was

all rusted black with the seasons

of distance empty-handed

the sungod's song

ashed into the sharp air like

a mouthful of cicadas

a belly full of rusty blades

sharpened through wet leaves

autumn's misfired words

& the cadence of quiet victory

all sand and small bones

and what have I known

of the beast struggling to be free

the impulse of its wilderness

antlered across

the surface of its frantic heart

a speed beyond the thoughts of birds

a world left behind

that does not know

it's only beginning