“Bellerophon Dreams of Flight” by Bernie DeVille

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Plummet scream building heat
holing the atmosphere, husk skin drying crackling
flakes falling like grace from
the former Samosel’s wings.
We never stop becoming something.
Tree leaf branch and root
hugged against the skin, damp against the flesh
bark building up under digging nails
pulses slowing to match.
We never stop becoming something
and in the silences we get the emptiness we are trying to fill.
Spirit bent, stretched into a stair
over the abyss for the fragile,
thin translucence springy with needed
usefulness.
We never stop becoming something
tethered to the earth.

-Bernie DeVille

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