by Jenifer Cartland
Hidden away, as if in a magic lamp that we rub and rub, . . .
Jenifer
I crawl in and curl through inner twists, and points that stick out like legs. . .
A river runs through each moment, each unknown bend carrying us —
Roots snake around boulders, moss, and bind them — a single, firm foundation …
Wind will blow and blow forever lost between shores. But you have roots deep …
Used up. Run through with life. Arms out wide, …
