When Ezra Understands

I’d like to walk home,

smile and jest, just

as everybody has —

is this too much? —

asked, no, prayed
to go home again.

Still, foot by foot,
I’ve learned to run,
lung-paced in step with everyone.

I chant frost-linger songs,
sing lost-finger stanzas,

tongue-touch gloss-glove notes.

Stand up! I stand.

Sit down! I sit.

I’ve learned

my sentence by heart,

and for that roof of words —

admit my virgin soul
died running in the dark.