The sweep of her hand
painting the morning in shades of love,

gliding from midnight in a gentle precision.
She answers the uncertain voices

with a wit and wisdom
mined from her grandfathers songs;

above the harsh intrusion
of ideology, grown outside hallways infected
with competition.
                              Situations and the truth
inherent in them: to be
alive in the same place that struck
angry blows, a gentle pause

to save us from the beat
creating rhythm against the screaming
tires in the street.


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