This breath, the rise and fall of belly and chest,
this eyeblink, the refocus, then another,
this swallow, the contraction of throat, then release,

a wandering in, a presence warming the back
of my neck, wondering which of you is flying in
this moment, in the next, the companion spirits

arriving en masse like swallows circling, landing,
ruffling feathers to settle on a for-now-just-right branch
among new leaves, this moment of starting over in

every breath and eyeblink, the feather that floats
groundward, which I retrieve with thanks, with this
breath, this rise and fall, this going on.