Poem

The Dead Still Air

The dead still air holds up the clouds, birds, kites
and descending orbital satellites.
The dead still air holds up
the leaves that used to sizzle in the breeze.
The earth is waiting for the sun
to click on and the moon to slide
behind Venus
then it will release the jet stream
down the Allegheny Mountains.
The earth is waiting for a sign: clap
of thunder or silent lovers. The dead
dry soil cakes around the roots of trees
by the dry riverbed. Gulls swoop and veer
to catch a few drops of rain. The boy
snaps a twig and sparks a fire. The boy
picks a snapdragon bud, swallows
it and breathes fire. The girl
jumps along hopscotch squares drawn
on the concrete sidewalk and melts
her shoes. The boy picks a lady’s-slipper
and gives the flower to his mother
to drink champagne with the Gypsies.
The young woman drinks Oktoberfest beer
and speaks into a cell phone
that has no memory. The girl
jumps rope and starts a tornado
that carries her to Oz. The young woman
lives as a butterfly and dreams of nothing
but not being alone in a house where nothing
happens. The boy somersaults
into winter. The girl somersaults
into a handstand and into a pool
of lemonade. The young woman somersaults
into a cartwheel and later that night
dreams of silent lovers.