Once, when I was a shiny-haired girl child,I believed in Santa Claus, fairy tales and Jesus Christ.
A person needs to have a goal,
It seems,A purpose,
The enormous weight of my choicesSits in the corner
Stares.I drew a map
I revise, rewrite.
As I cut my swath, toward the hazy end of the path,My place in this puzzle,
I find this unexpected grace:
To sing songs to
And gather back the shiny hair of a girl child,So she will see her world and be