I have been feeling odd-
one moment in tune, clear,
a voice like Emmy Lou’s in my head-
but trailing off to something jarring,
like Iris Dement-the words braying
but still soaring.
I am not quite in step,
the path quavers, but rises ever forward.
I see the glory in the ashes and the flame,
in crumbled walls and smooth paths-
I am no longer certain being orderly
would solve anything.