Inherit my smile, my thundering joy
a tone ring of banjo, a remnant of sin
that you may sing like a blues woman
We are not what we imagined
penny whistle marks
on southering gales
You with almond eyes
who listens like the biblical Mary
to what leans in from far Cassiopeia
taking a pounding in the waves
you are meant for greatness of heart
like the lion-hearted woman who gave you to us