Becoming a Horizon

A calling from the trees, a sudden sound
   swelling from branch to branch,
surrounding me.
The air fills, quivers with a gulp
   of swallows then I see it –
a falcon coaxed by thermal tides,
golden wings stretching in the light
   that lingers. Like a growl rumbling
from the neighbor’s cat over its nest
of bones, the air vibrates until it moves on.
 
Back home I run a bath, waver
between salts or bubbles — bits of mineral
   for my aches or silky feathering for a treat?
Room warm and steaming, my skin pinks.
Perched on tub’s edge, my foot hovers,
   tests the heat. Water welcoming, I slide in, 
dream hollow bones, heavy flesh, a chance to sing.