Later
I saw a woman with anger crusted
In the corners of her mouth.
She smiled very hard but could not take a greeting
Without bile burning.

It was a sister’s sorrow seeping into the groundwater
salting everything. All those dreams mushed
and clogging the system. This can’t be.

So I left today without frowning down at the brown grass
For looking dead in front of my house.
Looking for something gentle
I turned to the hummingbird and she said, “Not me.”
I turned to the wind.
Then a man sang
I feel like going on
Sounding old but necessary
Another video clip and
I’m slammed again
Hit again, shot again
This isn’t fair.

Is it jealousy?
Is it because I can hold mist and love?
Because I’ve tasted moon and bark?
Because God said “Be” and I am?

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