Prologue: the poet’s thoughts
All saintly people
help me know I am a pebble in their shoe.
even my angel backs off for a few days.
Possible Part One:
Science calls bullshit
on righteous theories that trot spite
around godless traditions.
Self-awareness wrestles with a crack that opens
as tons of water pull roots away from memory
and me-me-me’s heartbeat accelerates
into shimmering droplets of yesteryears
that fade into tracks
held deep within
Bereft of me,
Brenda Warren 2015