I don’t have an MP3 player
I don’t have you grandmother
I feel empty
It’s all I know
I never heard the music of your lips
What was your morning song?
Could you wake me?
I just want to sleep in
To rest in the things I discover
To keep these things in me like seeds
Help me count them
Rub my Catholic prayers into the Native dust of my soul
Help me empty myself grandmother
So I can be filled again