corpus christi 42009April 22, 2009
Sun postures steadily over long drawn waves
The pulse of the world:
My thumbs buried deep in pressure points to tell the tides.
Church bells sing Gloria!
To each stepping stone, each breaking wall
Hibiscus turns like trumpets
A red fanfare to salute the morning
An ebbing applause,
The words the Gulf speaks to say its good mornings
Where silently I stand, bracing myself against a wooden banister
Fighting back the tears shed for only Kings of the People.