For some
it doesn’t come
in an envelope through
a mail slot.
Didn’t show up
on our doorstep
engraved in evlen
and a large white hat.
Someone didn’t save
you from sand people
in the dune with tales
of your father.
The beginning moment
is shrouded in history,
unavailable until the peek.
Till the curtains are drawn.
A moment all reach and pass
without a second glance,
shadowed beauty
with a yellow umbrella.
Will scour the books,
together.
Saint's Muse 