Feather, Less

I can’t see it so I’m quiet about it
(as opposed to religion)
it’s free (so far)
and weighs so much less
than a feather
the scent of gardenia
(and the highway beyond)
floats on it
sounds skip over it
like flat stones on a smooth lake
I move through it
it moves through me

a zephyr, a gust
(pick a form of nothing)

then calm
dustmotes
hanging in a sunbeam
changing
blending

the air doesn’t care
when you breathe it

by the boy poets, hyperventilating