A man remembers himself in moments

A man remembers himself in moments,
those moments I remember with you.
Dear baby bird, your wrestling skin,
gaped mouth and fleshy neck.
I know you now as silent, stone
s whimper before a breath.
No gust of wind will fill the hollow
bones of mother's flight.
But sleep, sweet, lifeless winged song
in the sunlight of the night.

A man remembers himself in moments,
those moments I remember with you.
Young mountain man, hands like glass,
stretching despite the light.
The music moves us cordially;
rhythm, hectic, and just right.
The moisture dawn and dewy grass,
the pilgrim and the plight.
Airport scene, no leaves of green,
A hug––but not so tight.

A man remembers himself in moments,
those moments I remember with you.
The stretch of skin, the simple green,
A rack of solid stripes.
Crack and break, triangle schemes,
angles loose and tight.
Right in the heart, ball return,
quarter slots, cheap push, cheap night.
We show ourselves the beginning,
the wings before the flight.