FEALTY

Kristen Lenea Ryberg, excerpt #2 from Dear Earth

Fealty

When a window isn’t enough,
to remove the frame
I go for a walk, 
notice a wash of pine needles
beached for winter
relegated to rust roadside trim.

The undressing of leaf from branch
everything naked
exposed or underground-drawn inward.
Clouds in the clearest blue
bustle through a glitter-parade 
of snowflakes.

Winter, full-permission 
for a gardener, mornings to dream 
at the kitchen table with coffee
circling photos in seed catalogs.

I’m bundled on my walk
determined as finch at feeder
the seed I broadcast are my
steps, my persistent presence
a sworn subject of this Royal Earth. 

If it were warm, it would be a perfect day for kites.
We need more kite running
more hands holding fragile strings
wind, the conductor.

What a lesson.
Vibrating string
the engineless support
obstacles to avoid 
so our string remains unsevered.  

Or a larger sign
one that cannot be misheard
but still requires looking up
return to skywriting.