Yes a softness
	gripped me 
a feather-beat
of down
Held me with
     a mother-bird ferocity
	Yes 
	(still gripped)
I think I was still
I think I was still a body
	(or something)
	holding on
to skin

What I heard
	before ascent—
your voice
A voice low, muffled
—what we hear
     (a hum)
from within
     from within the womb
     (a heartbeat)
	What I heard
	—assent
		(a voice, low)
to leave
	to leave behind
     earth’s peach
     summer’s night green

	Night’s hum
and wingspan
	feathers filling
	nine-o’clock sky
What I (still)
hear— 
humming, you
     (scent of cherries)
     (scent of almonds)
	warming lotion in
your palms