Caw with her crow, wash the blood from your clothes, only she knows the season which calls the trees home to grow. Let her sit
Rowing on shore with her arms wide as whale song, she relives the day when she knew every note. She cries as she spins, but
Every day, walk her, she’s yours, our familiar, her voice is the patterns of freedom and change. Did you lose your footing, my dearest? Then