broken verses on “field,” “rock,” & “eclipse”

I followed myself for a long while, deep into the field. – Richard Siken

the field is always unfilled, forget the sunshine spilling atop
the land.
if the body had wings, it would grasp the air
& never let go.
where do our shadows go when light is absent? I wonder
if they retract into the body, footprints flipping back into
the legs.
one night, I sleepwalked into Ikpoba River
& became a rock. the water, a chain, pulling me into
its depth.
I awoke before my heart understood stillness.
perhaps everywhere is an open space waiting to be con-
quered.
I mean, moths swarmed the field one time
& I saw an eclipse.
last night, I lost my hands searching
for a door out of a dream. & the birds in the sky
whistled me off the ground.
imagine, to be as light as a whisper.

BIO:
Praise Osawaru (he/him) is a writer whose work appears in Agbowó, FIYAH, Frontier Poetry, The Maine Review, 20.35 Africa, and Uncanny Magazine, among others. He won the 2021 Valiant Scribe Poetry Prize, and has been nominated for the Best of Net, Pushcart, and Nina Riggs Poetry Award. He is a Watering Hole Fellow and HUES 2024 Scholar. He is a Contributing Poetry Editor for Barren Magazine, and Associate Prose Editor for Chestnut Review. He’s on Instagram & X: @wordsmithpraise.