Hold Your Breath

There’s a river that parts the valley of this town, following the road up to
your father’s farm
Your rosy lungs were empty on the day that you were born
And no one thought you’d make it past the morning
Hold…
Your brother said your mother was a firefly you buried in the earth
And every night the firelight warms the tender bits of skin beneath your shirt
The climbing constellations move in semitones
And sit behind the county line in a melody of gravitation
Hold…
We’re calling on the colours of the globe
Sleep amongst the mango trees and poisoned oaks
A flood for every footprint, for every mile we forgot
Though your hands were little, we’d always
Hold your breath…
The sanctity of soil
Wandering roots and living oils
Unions underground
Sunrise still the same
And all around, mountains like diaphragms
Rhythms of a landscape that is breathing