“THERE SHE GOES”
Crawling, still.
Muck waist deep
around her, but
she reaches…
in…
down…
digging…
throwing back
what doesn’t fit
the picture
she wants to see.
Knowing
eventually,
she’ll see it.
And now,
the bracken only
thigh high
wanes,
with every step,
in her own direction.
There, she goes.
