—After Jose Olivarez

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Like a rolling stone’s mirror image, I have laid my hat in homes

unfit for what love I know to give. I have lingered in the afterglow

of yesterday for years. Longer than any sane man should.

I want to learn what the birds know—how, in lieu of weathering

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a winter bound to repeat, they find a new nesting place

beyond grayed skies. I’ve not yet met a cold wind

I won’t shoulder through, never perched on an icy branch

& slipped to the leaves below. Born both Black & here,

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I’ve only ever known what wants me gone, & how to meet

that want with my own desire to be unmoved. O, beasts of

feather & talon, you swift, soaring beauties, tell me how to be like you,

averse to seasonal dying, singular in trajectory toward all that is green

& fruit bearing. I want to know your ways, how to live one foot

out the door. How to mount a breeze, & sail to safer harbors.

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