It does not matter that the stage is postage stamp
She stamps her songs with truth in every line
How he left her(her son plays digital games)
How she asks to be loved(even when she is angry)
How a song can sing a soul to other rooms
where domestic contradictions bloom like weeds
She asks these questions in between
the serving of food and the laptop of distraction
Three songs define these moments,and
we have heard these words before/their meaning
as personal as her vigilant watching her son as he plays
Perhaps he is unaware of the volume-she sings
to warn him to watch and listen.Vigilance required
these outlaw days of heat and air conditioning
Afternoon changes clothes and steps into evening
WE must move-from active listening to congratulating
knowing no day will be the same as this one-
until the next comes to sing on sunday afternoon
with a poem or two between the lines
like a white dove over battlefields
heralding Noah's green Ararat
Columbus' already discovered El Dorado
her golden voice stamped coinage
exchanged for time and energy
every sunday dreaming afternooning
2401 east sixth(post Cafe Caffeine 2-4)in Pedernales Lofts!
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