Lady with a wagon
Doting on oneself
Her dazzling fabrics dancing through the faris wheel of her reclaimed birthrights
Essence mixtures and blessings over what covers her
Honor and gratitude toward the ritual wheel of fortune
The wheels of justice turns for her
So she cannot fathom a busy life
Little tings make up her days
Sun light floods everything she does
Floating on thunder thighs to and from her nest
Pleasures dipped in nostalgia is her only meal
Wagon lady
Catch her strolling neighborly streets
Belly full and dirty raw feet
