there was a woman who hit her head
and ever after she could see the sharp
wing of things    blues and greens
radiating from the body of her sister
her mother     her friends     when she felt

in her eyes the yellow sting
of her mothers   dying   she trembled
but did not speak      her bent brain
stilled her tongue so that her life
became flash after flash of silence

bright as flame     she is gone now
her head knocked again against a door
that opened for her only
i saw her last in a plain box smiling
behind her sewn eyes there were hints
of purple and crimson and gold