October 11, 2023, 01:48 PM
In the morning
when she awakes,
there's a voice of protective prayer,
and a hand of Sekhmet on her cheek.
She decides to go out into the little desert garden,
to clear the budding acacia saplings,
for a view of the valley
out Toula’s bedchamber window.
But when she’s ready to strike
through a forming trunk,
she looks up and sees laid
in the furthermost branches,
a yellow verdin’s nest.
She does not fell that sapling.
She does not fell the others, either.
Now, in every tree,
there's a nest,
where a valley would be.