Dear kindness, I may see through a glass, in a half figurine. Tables turning. Blood rushing to the scene. Where have we laid our conversations? Where have we laid our un-prayed, prayers?
Over- yonder down by the riverside.
In the foggy-haze, taste a pinch of hope
see the sky, curl-over against the legs of the sun
bills unpaid, missed days, hair- all in blob, and done,
conversations now, are more than others got.
And God this is just a thought, if only, your hinder part
leave a spec of glory, that we pass through
so we may know, God has not forgot.
God has not, forgot.
Kindness sister Krissy
