Equi-knocks

thread_rolls
 
despite all her sewing

and all her weeping
 
She seemed-stressed—

her·vest outgrown

and the crop

circular, which meant little to

a grounded person

unlike herself

but much to

God-driven

chariots—

an odd conveyance with which to plough,

and more cumbersome still than camels’

when it came time to gather

yucca

and re-thread

that needled

eye.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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