AROHA

Glowing is her open cave
Or is it her
The mother of many who are not hers
They never stay long but they are hers
Pearly whites complete her uniform
Tapestry of her coordinating thunderstorm
Her way of saying “All are welcome here.”
She offers me her hat
The broken straws fit her just right.

How does she know I need it?
I use it as a raft
Set sail
And send back for the next person.
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