I unfold myself slowly
And step,
Out on to dew-laden grass
The drops pool,
And lick at my feet
My nerves crying out for warmth
I spin out slowly, each bit unraveled
The elbows, knees and hair
I weep and laugh and let fly
the long stares of children,
the silent thoughts of mothers,
the slow small bruises of angry words,
The gray matter tangle of soul
