When you come you bring the brigade.
You arrive early and stay late. You outlast the day.
You exhaust the albums, the needle, the optic eye.
You break the bank, crack the marble and extinguish the flame.
Your wind is a tempest, a roar, a typhoon like thunderstorm.
You bring ospreys and eagles and a murder of crows.
You bring dignitaries, ambassadors, prophets, and diplomats,
graduates, diplomas, doctorates and high praise.
You bring robes of purple, coins of gold, pillars of ivory and walls of stone.
You bring plagues of locusts and hellfire and plights. You unleash pain.
You bring punk and pushing crowds, shotgun blasts and third degree.
You bring multiple, many, moreover and most.
But you bring none of these. You bring quiet and comfort and solitude and singular.
You bring “I am She and there are none like me.”