Equi-knocks

 
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.