There are  (2022-09-03)

There are
wheels within wheels,
you say—
but still,
you sway
when bells peal,
long for gathering
where a church
long torn down
is now flats,
but never stops mattering,
wildflowers mown,
graves moved—
left fingerbones.
When all is a box,
who then
will sing us
to our eternal home?

From X (@lorepunk)
Original: https://x.com/lorepunk/status/1566173423512043520
— Margaret — @lorepunk on X. Share with attribution; a link back is lovely.
Sharing: yes, with attribution