Heart and Grit
In These Times
Morose is not rosy …
“That mask can be blown off!”
We are the present explorers, tracking our way home; our earth instincts
whittled as walking sticks.
Is this a monster? Or a bug we’ll swat away by summer?
A day arrives in a woman’s life when she is who she is.
Stands sturdy inside her own skin and makes no apology.
Do you remember when our language first began to lie?