The Offering

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THE OFFERING


This is one way to begin. 

Gently dislodge the cicada skin 


from the bark of the Bradford

Pear. It crackles like deep-fried


air. Don’t flinch as you imagine

you might have mistaken 


it for a living one, as a 

breath tips it over and you 


imagine you feel it crawling across

your open palm. It isn’t 


alive and neither is it finished

with you yet. Don the summer wind


like a priest’s garment,

then lift the encasement,


shouldering the airy weight

of a crusted world. 


This is what you are 

here for. Then shrug off yours.


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