Bone Market for the Soul Dance

The phrase landed in a drug
Dream in a hospital bed,
One afternoon thunderheads

Piled in their linen hampers
Ready for a rinse. Outside,
The sky was just that giant.

Inside, all the giants fit.
Nothing’s infinite. The bowls
Of bone may contain the sky,

But they can’t contain it all.
The soul dances of language
Wheel and deal for elbow room.