Howl if you must. Rip at clothes. Keen through gnashing teeth - Dorothy Wisecarver is dead.
Although thistles appear delicate, thorns and bristles challenge defining sharp contrasts between beauty and pain...
Pretty and gentle until grabbed too fast or knocked about, Dorothy was Virginia and Colorado combined. She was indeed capable of style and civility until unleashing torrents when shiny-lipped pigs ran and Lakewood got lost.
Watching Dorothy, self-evident truths perched amongst common senses. She was quite concerned with the Commons and the people comprising a social contract at her core and ours.
If souls have wings, she will never fall; forever echoing a vision for America nearly lost. Her body is gone yet her spirit is amongst us enduring.
May God bless and keep Dorothy safe until we meet again. May those who knew her love her still. Let those who feared her see waking quaking dreams. Let us all know she meant the best for ages past and those yet to come. May meadowlarks sing her praise pointed and true; with God you are found.
Rest in peace sweet Lady -- you force of nature!