Only the Sky

Only the sky
Is pretending to be still.
That soft fever
I get in these woods
Wells up blue
And slow
In my body. Its thump
Is only a piece
Of the life
It is going to be. A dead tree
Goes into its afterlife, a branch
Casting into the land's
Humming body. A bird stills
In the green hum,
And my body goes soft,
Still fevered
And slow,
Greening up into
That reach of deceiving
Space.

lks 2010