Ray Osborn

Mercy Seat

In Memory of Alice Alsup, 1990-2014

Her heart was paired with
a strained will, itself itself,

looking for bits of water.

Her heart rang blooms

from witted country dust.
Born, Texas, from scoria
of course, no more

than flower-trash found

wilting in the void.

Totaled in absolution.

Those deep roots alone
might stand all lonesome,

swimmingly, across

some plank-skied wharf
that has never sought
anything but daydreams,

pressed bulbs, full of sea.

Dry it rams in streamings
through Texas, now brined

and sickened, flank of water.

–It is mimed –You, mine.