CHAPTER
15
Today the angel came when the light made its bright edge. She checked his hands and feet and teeth and head. She checked his water. She brought the rice the onion the bread. They sat slowly sat near the fire and the bright edge opened and day poured out. The angel went back down the hill.
He boils tea and watches how the misting goes from his pot to circle the sky. The weather comes from his pot. He spends the standing up day smoothing the walls making them strong. That is what home is. The window is open for the day and the creeping things and the flying wings. They come to speak with him they touch his hands his feet all the standing up day while he works smoothing the walls making them strong.
He scrapes slowly his fingers in the dirt his neck bowed his back is soft over. The heat and light are on his head. He carries handfuls he places on the walls he makes the walls thicker. He sings the words that are sounds. When the shadow comes on his head he stops and goes to his mother place. He uses the cut stone to make sure the shape is right because she is inside the shape and he uses the white stone to make the marks of her face on the soft and then he will see her and she will whisper and tell him again soon she is coming. Ah, he misses her!
When the dark is in the air and he is lying down the smoothness on his cheek and his eyes closing and the dream pouring out.