Aura

Sherwin Bitsui


Cliffs, skirted 
by smoke-laced air 
wrung from blinds, eclipse 

faint sighs dripping 
down a fence-line’s aura. 
Eggs in her throat, 

female rain returns 
in photographs 
wind-hung at eye level, 

when her husband 
taps the light locked 
doorknob with his scuffed boot.