We alternate which livestock to emulate
depending upon the prevailing wind.
I am a leaping rhino or a meditating sheep
whether I look up or down.
I like to imagine being the woman
at the well with Jesus because I know
what being unworthy is all about.
The parking lot dust reminds me
of the desert I have never been to.
I am so thirsty for touch, the sun
has become a voyeur waiting for the moon
to pick its moment to show me the way
to the valley meant for me and mine.
I just do not know what is mine to keep.
Time is a lesser concern now as I see
heat enveloping all our fur, stars, and
laughter. A few tears remain but only
because the path from hoof to plan
is so arduous and exhilarating.
The Word Rummager 
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