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.