You are bombed brick immoveable
Full of whetstone promise
Having none of it
Strong, sturdy, stable
Pillar called truth, true enabler
Poised out of habit.
Mud hut cubed, packed pound
For pound against high water, hurricane,
(And the occasional hyena)
Knows no—all—strain, but three sisters
And a glass ceiling,
How you stood between the world and I.
Born for bearing and daughter follows, but
You are bombed brick immoveable
—Etched wall standing
And I am only sand.
