7.
But am I sure?
Why do I see a crown
idling over her head,
is
she a queen of it
or even more?
Did I hear her first
in the wilderness,
Old
Mill, Murray Hill, Joshua Tree?
The crown persists,
her forehead fits
so this must be the one,
I pull
with all my night
the
stone from the stone
and veer hard
into her royalty.
Because
these stories
live us still.
And not just me.
