Brow must salaam to belly
these mornings, frown, if at all
softly
sitting up in bed
finding the body
is still there

              (the small boy

at the swimming pool, touching
the collie's face above the eyes—
that's her soft frown)

If at first light
we can no longer fly, still
feet swing lightly to the floor
the spine flexes and
shoulders shift willingly, accepting
their burden
the sweet, insistent flesh.