I walked along the left side of a dirt road, unsure.
one patch seems ominous; I stick my hand into the soil, I breathe.
"so here you are," I say, not knowing whom to speak of.
I take a moment of finality-- the earth welcomes me.
the rope at my feet coils and uncoils itself uneasily and I twine it in my fingers.
the birds seem weary, and thankful.
for a moment I think of my mother, mothers always trace your path before you know you have one
worms trickle over my splayed palm and I imagine her.
I am sun-drenched, canteen full
I pull on my straw-lined uniform
stand against a wooden board, my grave-bed
"wrap the covers 'round me, sister," and I am bound.
my audience watches and I blush from the spectators drawn here to witness with beady eyes
I look at the sky, I breathe
I look at the earth, I breathe
I look at my hands, I breathe
while the earth crumbles beneath.