1/16
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then, like a
christening gift
day one saw her rising at 8 foot,
bigger than any man
as if she were
praying for rain
somebody whooped
she stopped
he turned and fled
like a boy
A tree dangled an apple
at bite-height
a traffic light stuttered
on red, went out
personal birds
sang on her ears
in passing,
saw lovers in the rented rooms
she bowed herself
into a bar
she needed
a turret
But pilgims came - small women with questions and worries
men on stilts
so day six, she upped sticks
horizon bound
she cured
no one
Taller was colder,
aloner, wiser
WHat kind of weather was heading
their way?
cuaght their souls in her hands
as they fell from the burnin towers