She’s queen of catholics
a megalith thicketeer
all the brambly family history
flush to the conch of her ear
sycamore-staunch, she molds
mountaintop memories
emerald and lavender
with snowmelt and lilies.
The sunstruck children
where old gulls live
fish for angels along
brackish shores, give
sycamore silence
to the spumante palaces
where the sleepers go
kissing their chalices.
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