Laila

Laila found herself flattened

     on a tickly green field,

         looked up and saw the sky had turned to bricks,

         arched all over her,

         massive and imposing,

             creased her eyebrows and frowned.

Her mouth was stuffed with lavender,

     her ears with dried sage.

Laila loved the hills, brush,

         - used to tend to the jasmine and inhale.

Til her landlord found her on one knee,

     nurturing,

         put his hand on the shoulder opposite the knee

     - set her tumbling thorugh a large large valley

             on the bluest day of spring.

She rembembers seeing the wise eye of a bunny as

     she fell and now feels

hazy like a cloud

or a dream.

Image: New Mexico — Near Taos, Georgia O’Keeffe. 1929. Oil on canvas laid down on board.