It’s not like

You’re gonna rise up singing

Cradle cap and rocking


Back and forth

Between hungry mother and child

She never was

Cooing in her Baby Face

Offering oysters of Truth

Walking off to the sentiment of freedom

It’s not like

They can read your mind

The carts coming up the aisle

Knocking boots, bruising elbows

Instead of widow pain

Hoist your self

Sales up

She rises

On the wind of internal gusts



Out of my way

Until He comes

To remind us

Of the electric fence

Barbed wall of freedom

In which case

When do we go?


2 thoughts on “Sojourn

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