SCOPE

o father, my father.

harder on the comedown

not the altitude crushing my chest, it's the way down

pressed lungs made for thinner air.

stamp me like a flower in your book

owen writes his name for the first time

then he writes it on my birthday card

i'll take it down, the way down south

diving deep now

a hazy field of view from this long lens

words are harder to come by on the comedown

so this,

standing on the overpass of a town's vacant dusk

you glow.

we wish the milky way goodnight

shivering stars 

like those above the midnight shore

i hear the tent rustling in the breeze

it's a lamplit log cabin,

a rendezvous before eternity.

our sand is frozen white.

we crush it in a shudder like my sea level lungs.

kelsey says we can see it in our breath

pulsing hesitant in its stride

i'm your climber, i'm your swimmer

the height and depth and length and width.

the largeness of you.

the intimate infinity you are.

from the sparrow porch to spero's twin bed

from the midnight sun to a field of red blinkers

i'll take my coffee with pumpkin spice, 

i'll kneel and look jeralda in the eyes.