Mother Mary
This is my home for my wing on my limb — lithic and low class chasing bliss.
"The planes on which I set to coast.
The sea to which we float.
Take time and dream" (hadir).
My hope for you: find the sunshine inside yourself, amen.
Mother Mary
With a simple straw hat and bent nails across your small back.
The cobbler clicks his hoof on the hard floor.
You wait for sunrise to run from his small eyes by twisting your head aside.
Quiet breath between the hills.
Stone, wind, limb, and sea.