Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Standing in a white dress
Holding a needle and thread
She first sewed her mouth shut
To keep secrets locked in
Next she made a pair of angel wings
Out of scraps of paper and forgotten dreams
That were still left over from the war
She put her typewriter in a thrift store suitcase
Along with a photograph of the morning sky
and with her bruised and bloody feet
took the first steps of faith