Arrival 

for Jay

A light-boned bird, 

he defies small-town weather,

feathers a nest by an estuary 

where young stars explore nebulae.

 

Today, he wears happiness like a top hat,

tells the world it will not be heeded.

I narrow my eyes at the calculation of him,

study the gap between pencil’s tip and paper.

 

Arrows of light strike the polish of his cheekbones, 

drawn high and bright like Achilles’ own.

Lips, full as berries close to spoiling, 

cannot contain the width of unstained joy.

 

He hands me a picture of a clear-skinned boy,

tells me he has found first love,

that breath belongs sometimes to air, 

sometimes to blood.