They don’t
weave a satchel,
and so they ‘d wonder
whether you came from here.
I think you’d
know if someone
listened and how
far away’s Odessa.

I may be closer
to you than I
am to me, and
So close to the
frozen ground,
maybe a
lost twin sister.

The toil it took,
though arrived
by ship. And yet
If walking on the
water, you would
have survived,
the trip
though far
away’s Odessa,

A bee
sleeps in
a dwindling rose.
And without mine I
wonder has
there been
a call, a tear,
a blessing.

RLB 12 28 2020