Your hands hold the world up in front of me.
A diorama of tin-foil clouds and giant birds.
I’m not sure what other people are doing
with their day.
What must be done. When you’re absent
or is it me? You say yes
take a nap. It will all be here.
Because you say so
doesn’t make something lost.
Consider the scarlet tanager
who dive-bombed your car.
Blood or plumage
creating a separate body. You shook
the rest of the day because it seemed suicidal.
How someone can write with love
and then cross it out.
Write with so much.
All my. Never-ender. Wild.
Daniel Moysaenko holds an MFA from the University of Massachusetts Amherst and is the author of the chapbook New Animal (H_NGM_N Books, 2015). Other work has appeared in Columbia Poetry Review, Mid-American Review, Oversound, Pleiades, Rain Taxi, and The Volta. He is pursuing a poetry PhD at Florida State University.