Emily Jern-Miller

from Air Is

for a while a house
and then we’re made
to hear ships pick
up the rusty warm.

near toiled is must
steady morning
notes and lately
pouring rain

combs through oak.
i work. try to shallow
your departure
into material

a shell and i
can agree on.
dune cues the coast
minds momentarily.

*

when night hawks
its sound nests
against uninhabited
sleep once reptile
start now outspoken
water or ghost
vibrations a glove
missing the other.

*

there is no view unbitten
rope can't settle. arrive

at this town open time
the clock tower gives

us: the possibility
something coming

out of the experience
the daffodil remembers.

open windows open
summer roof the skin

you donated no soil
remembers itself.