Is the world originally without a blemish,

How come a molten core suppressed Remains unopened?

Clearly, the one veiled, widowed and alone,

Cannot hold me up against a forceful wind.

Much to Changing Woman’s chagrin,

Adam’s rib floated away intact.

Whoever is left is left to sweep

Away an avalanche Hard-pressed to figure out what the cost

Of rebuilding When the solitary

Soul dismembered

Already cared enough

Within and without

To recall the moment

Of its unexpected passing.

To crave a winged applause

From a caged snowy owl

Suddenly released

Who would dare imitate Buddha’s silent offering

Of wing and tidy talon?



AlicePopkorn Foter CC BY-NC-ND