This Verse

Each living day
we pretend this
will not end

Here we are all stuck
in cars, busses, carts, on foot
waiting for big moves

The red earth bleeds now
remembering every death
unnecessary

The clouds care little for us
so many ants scurrying
in search of scattered crumbs

This constant unburdening
guilt's expiation
I have so much
the world so little

I spun all morning
to someone else's tune
until I could only curtsy
and gaze down at my feet

Fingers stumble over taught strings
hoping for familiar notes
but today I am the queen of dischord

I look for you with the name I knew
when I was a child and you my teacher
but you have disappeared since then
hiding behind another name
as women sometimes do
and so I cannot find you to thank you
for the shelter and welcome you gave
to my younger self so afraid
the world had no room for me

The great storm is coming:
for days I watch it creep
across the vast ocean
East and everywhere
When you arrive
all howls and beating wings
uprooting every sacred thing
I can only stand
humbled and amazed

I sit, resolved to tell myself
the whole truth of this life
what is ugly and beautiful
sweet and bitter on my tongue
But I do not see clearly
hear as through deep water
too dark to fathom