September is chilly mornings and classroom routines, cardigans dragged home, and the onset of colds. Grandma packs her bag with activities to distract, a soup
Aspire to transcend, reach higher consciousness, like a lotus rising out of muck – but grace and virtue elude me, more mud hen than delicate
My forward movement startles us both – you ground foraging with the robins, me delighted by a flash of red – heart at your nape.
Evolution, not devolution, will bring salvation. Archeology – the willingness to forage in the desert: multi-layers of fallout, aftermaths, abandonments – unearthing fragments, reconstructing –
Long since dawn’s early observation, have witnessed patriarchy’s inequalities first hand second hand lack a solution, short of vengeance – perpetrate rather than end the
Forged in a crucible of fire my essence is flame – I smoulder in silence burn in indignation ignite with passion – stir these embers