The Little Hero

The world's touch
shook her hands,
like an earthquakes
grip on a doves neck.

Yet did not leave
a mark on her spirit,
did not take her flights
did not dry her breast.

The world's weight
pushed her inside out ,
a hurricanes force caught
inside an umbrella of flesh .

Yet still she believed
that love would fly her
to safety, even as she
crashed upon the rocks.


John G.Hall(C)2004