Midnight Matriarch

She’s quiet like a mother’s voice,

yielding in a thicket breeze,

pasture receiving her clear message.

.

Pursues me like a shoreline wave,

encompassing my skin and bone,

rhythm moving her last vestige.

.

She gives like sun in late July,

joking with a tongue of fire,

patrons calling for her presage.

–

For C.G.