to Erri De Luca

A claw in the sinew,
an eagle’s beak pecking
between bone and ligament.
And an eagle’s eye reminding
in flashes of alertness
of how stone and bone come close
on the scree, under the sky;
how easily can a body
just drag itself, then crawl
and finally lie down,
becoming stone.

Nothing in the body
is made for soaring,
so, those who moved out
into the world of light
knew well
how to distrust the body
making another sinew grow,
like a butterfly breathing,
out of the claw.