Cirrus – Frances Boyle

A cradle in air      minute maneuver
before flight    you right
the balance                  of motion
swing left, tilting     at clouds
that lilt             in tremulous voices
As the sun             lifts itself
from the bath   of horizon        cirrus
streaks             separate     for colour

to show through          blow blue
inside your eyelids           Magpie wing
a flash              of teal      Chamber
slate inscribed                         with wide
cursive missives              Wind’s angle
dusting            the curtains      askew

Split sky          split screen      as the world
whirls briefly brilliant      scant breath
of slick ice       cooling            the back
of your hectic              neck          ramshackle
shapes       that morning takes             An escape
from earth-level     tangle          to soar above
the waterfall’s roar         the rapacious        taking
that is              flame                           upon fir

Frances Boyle is the author of the poetry collection Openwork and Limestone (Frontenac House, 2022). Her other books include Tower, a novella (Fish Gotta Swim Editions, 2018), Seeking Shade, an award-winning story collection (Porcupine’s Quill, 2020) and two earlier poetry books. Originally from the Canadian prairies, Frances lives in Ottawa.