pine

a deep sigh, the sun crept in. 

her large hat hide her forest green eyes. 

in the back of her mind sat a spider’s nest. 

one, two, three babies are in there, alone. 

as she spoke she pulled a lizard out of her

ear and laughed up letters. we couldn’t tell

what was wrong with her, besides her

left thumb missing. some people wander

and others they care. this poor soul had

no one to care for and nowhere to go.

below her picture which is now framed,

we light a pine candle and say her beautiful

name: only on Mondays- that was her day.