Her, in Columbus

What if this is the way it could be,

wide winged and unlaced to the world?

Face to the sky, lifted to whatever comes next.

All the while, long strong legs connected to the earth and all earthy things.

Bold with belly, naked need and hunger nakedly fed.

Breasts bared, gladly glorious and ready to give.

Not one ounce of apology or anxiety in your stance?

I do not know if I am different from the others

and that keeps me from them,

or if we are all the same, dreaming

the wild dream of freedom and home,

and I just have not found them yet in the time given me.

Maybe they have made peace with their bodies and place,

or have been numbed into a not-wondering.

Maybe they do not struggle against the thing that contains them,

nor do they separate their every day lives

from the sacred stones and holy bones under their skin.

All I know, tonight, is that she is with her,

and they are with them, and he is watching the door waiting,

and I am typing about a copper statue,

I am learning from a copper statue,

while the living find the living

and feed their handsome bellies

with the food upon their plates.