When she spoke, the heavens, the waters parted behind her

Leaving nothing to chance. But what happens when corporate

Takes over? I asked. Nothing, life goes on as usual as ever it will, she said.

Might you call that happenstance? I queried.  All those years I felt I was unloved,

What happened to the leaves on the tree, the birds of the air?

I never felt they were singing loud enough for me to hear. Mourning doves

Now get a load of them coming at you from every which way around

Catty cornered to an unclean kind of wind trying to drown you out.

Yet here you are are almost always complaining when thunderstorm

Or ¬†tornado crops up and I don’t care to name whatever it is you might

Like to call it, divining rod, a moth, a mother’s lineage, a silhouette, whatever.

Like my grandmother must have felt before me though I didn’t

Understand much of anything at the time I knew her though I

Felt I was divinely inspired or something like that. Today it seems

Like all the oxygen has fled from Mother Earth and nothing is leftover

Save for a few remnants of airplane wings on an abandoned island.

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