storm

shaking like an elm leaf
she stands in the rain
stained by man’s old game
blaming herself
shaming herself
for being a girl
not seeing the pearl for the oyster
she runs to me hides in my sweater
I let her
we stand there getting wetter
fettered to the other for the sadness in this world
God’s crying I whisper
she folds up in sobs
a fetus finding faith
in the dirt
she believes despite the hurt
washed white, weary, worn
i’m her anchor in this storm