Thursday 31 March 2011: Hungry Heart, Wobbly Heart
Not Yet There
The tree is intricate, a lattice
with many moving parts: sparrows,
robins, a blackbird's creak.
The ox in the sky pulls the plow.
The archer strings his one good
arrow across the bow. The dipper's
hinged against the lip of the grassy well.
And I have only my hungry heart, my
wobbly heart: I cart it everywhere I go.
~ Luisa A. Igloria
03 31 2011
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