RISHA LÖTTER

Boomslang

To be

the breath within the craw of olive thrush as he dives and

dives

with wings and claws proclaiming fury 

into the green swinging singing neck of snake

into the open maw of death.

To be

the breath within the belly of the serpent

escaping into empty sky as he spirals and

spirals

with luminescent speed

onto the bare deliverance of land.

To be

the bated breath of tree

in early spring.

To be

the breath bereft in human throat.

To be the breath made flesh

in hiss

in duel

in dance.

To be there.