the path   the path she ponders glimmering before her   she must step through the shadows of doubt clutching her fear   glimpsing, on what could be words on poetry  

I’ve dreamt about being in gumboots As a Forest Ranger I’ve viewed Chicago From the tallest skyscraper I’ve seen clouds Form and rise like sourdough I’ve longed for the Storefont dressed in periwinkle I’ve always danced To the beat of my own drum I’ve fixed…