passage

i:

i walk every morning through
a dim hall of dead goddesses
scan my badge on a magnet
that unlocks the heavy wooden door
to a white room where blue words scroll
the surface temperature of the sun.



ii:

a week and i'm still
coughing up city.
meantime,
my seedlings
broke ground.
eyasses' feathers
thickened darker,
falcons bring their young
less prey and fly it
out of reach
to tease
their hunger
into flight.

tiercel circles, spectacular,
nestlings flap thrilled
40 stories low
at the bottom
of the sky.