Cherita Sequence:
her name was cherita
the street awakens
another tribe of wanderers
home, a word long since forgotten
in a shabby black coat
she claims to be descended
from a long line of crows
her hands flutter
two migratory birds
that have gone astray
the world, too harsh
to be a safe haven
for accidentals
paper-thin body
this pale skeleton
of the bird I once knew
those pinioned feathers
never had a chance to carry her
too close to the sun
broken-backed prairie
where the wild things are blown
when their roots are severed
uncaged at last,
she joins the waiting flock
that always knew her name
Single Cherita:
lightning storm
a shadow
runs for shelter
I still see you,
sparks flying
from your fingertips
scimitar moon
never enough light
to capture your curves
photographs of you,
the negative spaces
between us
I am not who I was
with each season
comes a deeper sorrow
the stones I carry
so round and blue
might have been your eyes
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