In a world that is caught
between all the cracks,
there's a lonely old woman
with a **** on her back.
She is wearing a shawl
that's tattered like feathers.
She is speaking aloud
And the words are her tethers.
She raises her arms
And she spins in the darkness.
Weaving and tripping
Against the world's starkness!

She is chanting the words.
She is moaning the words!
She is crying the words!
She is shouting the words!
She is whispering the words.
She is sighing the words...
She is drowning in...words!

And in her dark eyes
That are shadowed..now streaming,
You can see that shes crazy!
You can hear her mad keening!
Her shawl lifts and flutters-
the feathers all airborne!
They swirl all around her
Like a dandelion snowstorm!
And when the wind soughs
And clear is the air
.......There's a crack in the sky
She is no longer there...