I want to go back. Where I left my one sequined shoe
in the crawfish hole, gone forever.
I will eat rhododendrons.
I will fall over Blue Ridge Mountain rock.
Now I’m dreaming.
Or am I awake as a childhood question?
There were pigeons in the rafters where I slept.
I was a runaway with all the boys. I miss their cooing.
Looking up over the farmers’ fields is Fatima’s eye
reflected back, a blue flag of warning.
In the woods of my lost shoe, nothing can find you.
You’re permanently lost.
–The Bride Minaret, University of Akron Press