As we wander this barren New Mexico land;
sand,
more sand, and
tall weeds (taller than me) with blinding flowers
a little Grand Canyon that would make
the flat fields of
Texas (shamed)
there is a cross on the side of the
steaming pavement,
a yellow cross
and a dozen yellow tulips,
wilting in the desert air.
in memory of a soul that no longer
rests there
maybe a girl like
me,
on the greatest journey of her life
and her last thoughts, last prayers, last
wishes, and dreams
the last things she sees
are the jagged edges of my little
Grand Canyon,
rusty red rock and
a long black road.
I wonder if she was as
charmed as i,
as taken by the purity
as mystified,
tongue-tied
as suddenly far from home..
i wonder, before she died,
if she felt as alone.
