Wise Poets – C. L. O’Dell – Peony

C. L. O’Dell

I am ready for the next
thing: rows and rows of wings
lifting off the earth
and telling me to stay.
The sky wriggles with life
and still, the air is gray
like any rock
above a grave.
So let me have this now
before the blossoms
take my absence
from the yard
and I am again only one-sided,
a living thing responsible
to live, finding myself in tall grass,
whispering back.