when God needs a girl

I am no ones girl.

On the edge of the wilderness

I will stare into the night

with a flannel shirt and socks

and no arms behind me

to remind me that the bed is



I am no ones girl.

On the reading of a future

I will stare at a frosted sun

with a smirk or a frown

wondering if God needs a girl

to keep warm.


I am no ones girl.

On the way to the end

where the children grieve,

I will sleep into something or nothing

as the girl who chased

after the God with a warm laugh.


before and after light hits the horizon

You held your body solid,

intentional above me.

Your eyes made some kind of

bargaining plea with my

willingness to beg for you.

We searched

with all that we had.

You held me in your arms,

wrapped my legs around you.

Ran your fingers through my hair

as our breathing settled into a

unified whispered sleep.


But when the outside world woke us

 with the rooster crow betrayal

and the reminder that broken

hearts can break further still,

you laced your boots up

and walked away

as I washed my face

and rinsed the love from my eyes.


J .Ann.



A broken summer’s road

They still make their way

around the long curves

of this broken way.

These peasants with seeds,

silver headed elders

wrapped in bandannas and overalls and odor.

The engine of their tractor hums the steady song

of yearning to feed the nations.


I am wheat and wind beside the summer road,

realize that I am fed by mercy seed

over and over again.

And the tractor slows,

the singing quiets.

I wave to the leathered driver.

Her eyes shine inside of  the sun 

as she waves back.

I think the eyes are blue.

Sky to eye, eye to land.

We both hope that she will be down this road again tomorrow.