Perched on a park bench

Legs folded underneath

Peaceful yet pensive

Fingers tap in time

Apprehensive

Squirrels squeak their lines

Robins tweet her

sweet release.

——

Humming harmony

clinging close to God

There she summons solace

Yet her soul is

here with me.

—–

Asked

she denies the mask

that defines her

furrowed face

form fit for the

fate faith forces

her to fill.

—-

Words cannot

express when

No should be yes &

lines cannot rest

u next to s.

—-

She summons solace

Yet her soul is

here with me.