perfection of cholla
. went uninterrupted
through the whisper grass
As I tried to figure
what the rocks had to say.
It gave me a reason
to exist
The needs of people
didn't.
She came quietly, with a smile
took my hands
And told me of her alcoholic father,
who could not stop
for the family sprouting up
around his glass,
How she wanted to fix him,
tried to fix me instead.
Six years on one side, six years
on the other,
I never came closer
to an apology.
Yet all I could think about
was the way the roots held
the stones in place,
How happy I was that she
had come all this way
to share it.
