Genderless Poetry

A down-on-your-luck moment,
it´ll pass,
just like the wheat
in fields becomes
Mrs. Barid's 100 percent
whole grain bread.

Blue sky blushes as wind sweeps across his face;
the psalmist said, "that´s you, buddy," in Hebrew,
and I took my friends word for it:
"its hard to translate things like that."