The struggle now goes on, inside of her body with people and forces of nature, a mind pitted against an old body that rages in pallid fury. Food comes out as water in running car as we drive to people for reluctant homes.
The struggle is against people who will not cede ground for her in their space.Not well in the body, Yet she would struggle like a desperate bear in the forest hole in a net of latticed shadows in the holes as it closes around her body with people watching from the rim of the earth-hole.
The struggle will go on till the desert-show is over under the star-lit theater and men will get up and go to their homes with a few memories for night-dreams.
The Morning is Just a Dream 
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