for Leah

I pray for lungs that live
like great and green lands
grass embracing fields
and hills like lovers   &
winds rushing in from
the sea   the latest news
from foreign places riding
their untamed currents   &
people like rich blood
traveling the windy lanes
to farms villages towns
never stopping at the pub
or to gab with friends
over ancient stone walls
along the way   rushing
always rushing through this
“bounteous world” as Smock
would call it & rendering all
tubes running through you
moot    moot    moot