Step by step each morning
is everywhere at once, closing in
and though you count on it

you begin to bake instead
take classes as if the sun
has room for another sun

and its crust at last break open
for air—after each funeral
you learn to make crumbs

—with just two fingers
held close the way the Earth
is emptied by a small stone

kept warm in your mouth
and once set out with you
closer to the ground.