she’s still afraid
blood-lava waves will
suffocate her shadow wraith,
but says the sanctified will surely rise
through the dark, through a window in the sky,
cloaked in divine wind that blows the cloud curtains
across the pearl of Heaven’s floor, opening fortress doors.
Catherine Zickgraf performed her poetry in Madrid, San Juan and three dozen other cities. But she’s differently-abled now—walking with a cane and flying in her sleep—so her main jobs are to hang out with her family and write more poetry. Watch/read her at caththegreat.blogspot.com and run/jump while you are able.