“You were really beautiful, thank you”- Nick Cave

The road unwound like
a long-held breath,
its rhythm soft as
the heartbeat of stone.

She leaves the earth of
Mesas behind, red dust
curling in the rearview,
the bones of
old places.

The sky is wide enough
for her grief tonight,
stretching taut,
bruised with stars,
a canvas for memories
she cannot bury.

She drives east, a hymn
to the unbroken road.
Her body a map,
etched in ink, scar,
and story, a nurse’s hands,
a wanderer’s soul.

But grief does not shake;
it settles, heavy
as a stone,
silent as the wind.

The sky stretches endless,
its wounds glowing
faint in the
morning light.

She breathes it in,
the ache, the wonder,
the endless gathering
of what is lost
and what remains.

She wonders if she
could reach up,
pluck her sorrow
from the heavens
and hold it like
a wildflower,
its petals torn
but still fragrant,
resting on graves.

to something she can’t yet name.