Every day, at quarter to eight
She walks out of her house
She closes her heart
To embrace the world
The cell phone walks her, feeds her cordial yet unfamiliar things
She yields her seat to horses, cows, and roosters
She’s on her feet to confirm that the Earth is flat
So every time she sets out, it gets harder to come back
In some places
The farther the house, the closer home is
The farther the fairy tales, the closer childhood is
The farther the nature, the closer mystery is
When she arrives at the station, she is already far away from herself
Like a cicada away from the earth
And starts to howl