Josephine Poem by Maclene Marcaida

What's your name?
My properties, my kettle,
my calf had been washed
out. My calm farm.
What's your name?
It's quite shame that I can't
lend you a tea or a 'fee
because the mugs went to
my neighbor. Besides, the
powders and granules are wet.
What's your name?
The silo still has a roof.
Nearby's my house, what's
left of Josephine's proof.
What's your name?
The lumber drenched with
water. Twist it. Dry it.
Twisted fate. Dried faith.
What's your name?
You who can tame a sheep
use the wool for warmth.
and use the flesh as food
to fool the stomach.
What's your name?
So I can express my gratitude
for helping me re-construct
a home, for my inaccurate
days en-veloped
in this ludic life.
What's your name?
You who ceiled my scars,
who sealed the foundations
of my sanctuary. Thank you...
to the point I'm eager
to know your name.
You, whose presence can
calm a storm. So tell me,
What's your name?
and where are you from?