Sunday, April 30
SANCTUARY
Everyone wants to meet Tracy, the one-eared sheep,
her skin raised and raw where she squirmed
against the shears. Who among us has known
the deepest hurt? Look at Blitzen---how he can't keep
his tongue in his mouth, and so it lolls
cartoonlike from his porcine lips. He has no idea
he's ugly. And Baby doesn't know the serpent
her spine resembles in the X-rays or that her heart
is on the wrong side of her body. She runs faster than all
the other ponies. I feel you, Baby. You and I were both
bred for carnivals in which we can't participate, and look
at the lives we get instead: hands reaching out to us,
reaching toward us, hands from every direction
full of offerings, holding nothing, full of invitation.
(Kathryn Smith)