DAGNE FORREST

Hypaethral

Flattening tall grasses in a meadow
to make a patch of sky above you,

dreaming the Greek word hypaithros,
with hypo meaning under, and
aither referring to the upper air. 

Originally applied to classical buildings,
especially Greek temples, with no roof
or cover, it could refer to our bodies,
the bald way we move through the world.

It all starts with a hole in the head
and a forgetting of how we arrived here,
frequent glances at the schedule
on a dank platform guiding you 
along points of future disintegration.

You've always been as vulnerable 
as you are here, now, with the man
on the train next to you coughing
as though his life depends on it, worry
a blade in the back of your mind
that you’re no longer suited to travel,

and the news feed at your fingers
too awful to consider distraction,
yet too distant to feel completely
unseated by for long. There’s nothing
for it but to stay on the train,
your hand straying toward the green
window, the fields beyond, imagining

flattening tall grasses in a meadow
to make a patch of sky above you.