by Elissa Minor
Sometimes Shakespeare is wrong, you know, and it's not a question of to be or not but how to know the wind and when to get up in the morning. It happens this way: you turn a corner and find yourself inside the air. A hawk searches you and lectures your form. The earth speaks, "Learn to fly without being noticed. You've seen where the mountains cross—well look past there and catch the wind just outside the world—make a present to the sky." Should you turn home when the rain pushes the air? That is the question.