We Shall One Day Gladly Pass From This World

Caught napping
and nebulous, infirm,
soft edged,
cloud-conscious,

snapped back to semi-solid
at once.  Did someone
knock?  Jump
at that door and pull it wide

open and no one’s there but
a wisp bowing invisibly.
You see it because you’re still
mostly wisp right now

so it’s kin and it’s bowing
then straightening up, slides
past you to the couch, takes
your spot.  You step out

into the hall, the door locks
behind you — what now?
Everyone for miles
is sleeping.  Start knocking

on doors and bow
when one opens for you
even if the occupant
can’t see you — in fact,

especially then.  This is how
you learn to be nebulous,
cloud-caught, more thought
than flesh.  It’s a process,

not an end result; you realize this
when you jump from the next couch
you’ve usurped and are in the cold
again, when you go out to the street

and recognize all the spirits
and see that they have the same
indistinct, tender face
that you now bear.