Valenciana

Summer clouds her blue eyes, she knows the uncertainty, love is the big why, what separates from her bones, stuff that makes her dream, is sight of water, a hero home, surrounded by impressive skies, she feels the pull of destiny, not some faded alibi, Our Lady says she’s not alone, with inchoate thoughts and schemes, the wind her great bellows, memory’s arc of scurried nights, a map, a bottle, all the wean, the thrill of troubled flight, she’s conscious that she’s bold, sees the line of harvest teams, hears the horses groan, better the sea .