Smoke (Poem)

Open the door in the hours before dawn.

The trills drift into the kitchen like smoke.

They are smoke, each bird aflame. We do not see this.

Step outside to check the sky.

The shadows wash across the moon like smoke.

They are smoke, each cloud a signal. We do not see this.

Go about the morning business.

Begin to cough but cast this on other causes.

All is enkindled. The world is burning.

There are no distant fires.