Song for the Ordinary World

She looped an island
in the arroyo where two dry flows split
around a stand of trees
and then merged together.

She sang, 

they call this place 
I return to 
day after day 
the ordinary world 

Later, she sang,
 
we live in the ordinary world 
the ordinary world
we live in the ordinary world 
the ordinary world 
we live

She found the habitats
that children had built 
from gray limbs
and inside were the tools and utensils
needed to make a home
to live in.

She circled the dwellings
while recording footage,
trying not to capture her shadow in the frame,
her phone's shadow.
But they are there,

because if you live under the sun,
you cannot circle something without including your shadow.

She hummed at home
looping herself back in,
toned her meandering nerve.

She edited out all the filler words in an old presentation
um, so, and, sort of, uh
and made from the utterances
a palimpsest chant,
and she layered other old chants 
and refrains.

And she sang this poorly for you,
her dear friend,
who knows, in your own way,
where to find riches.