ODE TO KARIN

Rumor has it that honeybees leave the county
when they hear a hint of Karin's voice
on the wind. Soft but strong; think Annie Oakley
with a guitar whose strings will pierce your heart.

Butterscotch boots barely visible
under yards of an old Mexican skirt.
She strides to the microphone as if born
in a trunk on an old concert hall stage.

A quick sideways glance and a grin at old Hambone -
all the strength she needs to be on her way.
That first note a clarion to those who love
neither wisely nor well: time to break out the whis-kay.

Dispensing a balm to comfort us all
we're led on a tour of her considerable heart.
With assurance that grace and time always heal,
she sends us back to our world a little more whole.