By hoof and sky

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. 

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