For Andrea Dietrich
She took the lay of the land
Which lie before my face
West of where fathers lie
Lying there in their silent space
She understood my silence
In this tongue, the virus
That canceled my own, lain
Forgotten in the brain
I shall lie if I say I trust
Another voice beyond her eminence
Her authority gives confidence
That in her much more lies
Waiting to be laid upon my eye
She is magnificent
With tongue and fruit of word.
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