Ascension

Hollow bones
of birds may hold
the Self sundered
from the body.
Some hint
of light departs
from twisted metal,
cells no longer holding
and so seeks
the lift of lacy struts
tucked up in hawk’s wing.

I have no way of knowing
but I saw the red-tail rise
from where you died, those Bitterroots
can’t have you for forever.
Hawk circled
high and away,
a dark speck becoming
Sapphire Mountains.