1it is not likegod could waitwhile wewove clothof hope and flax,a seasons growingto make thewarp and weftof prayer. 2thirteen ravensflew the sky,i don’t rememberwhy i counted. 3there was no predictingthe turning of the wheelyet i held the lucky numbersticky in church fair handwaving it wildlywaist high to the crowdwaiting to claim my prize. 4i cut…