Already, the sky today
is made of someone else’s history and falling behind.
And the traffic is terrible.
I have a dream of simply being
This might hurt a little,
Did you hear the one about the prayer that fell in love
with a church ceiling?
I just want
to be home. Snow is kinder out my kitchen window.
It leans so close I can believe that it is whispering.
It brushes the glass and says