And So I Howled

In the beginning two hands shaped me; 
One, a fearful absence, the other warm but gripped by sorrow
and I, soft and pliable between them, a small animal alone in their wild.
Our home was humble and dark hidden in the shadow of mountains. 
I ate wild berries and goat turds - too young to tell the difference;
I slept under stars, a rough canvas the only barrier between me
and a feral moon. 

Then, rough walls; held together by stubbornness and desperation
My Father, the sky, cold and distant.
My Mother, a field; her grass so tender and sharp
I would cut myself on her 

2021-2024