I have been crying
so now I am listening to
“Shelter from a Storm,
drawing zentangle roses.
The first break and crumpled fall,
then a company and conversations,
finally stretching sun salutations,
around, around, not leaving the page
till the end.
I tie blue, blue bows.
Beyond the window snow sings, pirouetting
down. I step out and lift up my again
sobbing voice.
