Begin:
today you are born, the universe is born, whatever that is is born and has its purpose.
Flowers are born, sea life and mountain are born, the positions of the moon are born, the deer clumsy in the meadow is born—
it is falling away from its mother, it tries to stand but struggles as the springtime and all its birth is born.
In time an end is born, the culmination of the butterfly’s short life is born, the death of the sheep who lived through twenty sheers is born, the agave’s sprout high into the summer is born, the churning of the hurric ane is born and in a bedroom, at this very moment, an end of innocence is born.
Fear the summer cold that leaves you feeling life is leaving you behind, laughing until it’s lost its breath.
It’s struggling to gather new air, this air is new, it is the newest air.
Nick Courtright lives in Austin, Texas with his wife and son. His poems have appeared in numerous journals, and a chapbook, Elegy for the Builder’s Wife, was released in 2011 by Blue Hour Press. You can find more of his writing here.