I Sang in Eulogies

The way

we trek

the plank, the body

to which wings attach

a breeze over, passed through

and we held that, as Life

a rosehip

bubbling water

and called it This

the It

the walk, paused

along the body, plank

latched to miracles

honeycomb

by which we'd fly

with our hands

You wrote

and I sang, steamed

with feet that grew

in distance from the ground

red as eyes closed,

Close to the light.