CUL-DE-SAC
The face in the mirror
is spare and local,
looking like a small
flower, a tiny
black blossom.
As this flower,
known as “other,” shuts
the door behind her
walks out into the
neighborhood, will you
notice the lively spirit,
the love of the land,
air and sky? She takes
long strides going toward
the dead end of her street.