She arrived from the corners of a metal door
hard and bleeding...
She has many maps on her mind...maps that lead to falling edges
edges frail like the ache on her back
frail like the frown cracking into roads and boundaries
Boundaries and Barricades
She can't tell a hedge from a fence
But she re-arranges boundaries for when they
become encroaching walls
to lines, so thin, they blur under the sun
She is a woman, old with lines, burdened by boundaries
She is a woman sitting in the corner of a loud life
And she gathers her rags like she gathers her fears
in the face of a gathering a storm.