West

In the plains

Eagles build their nests 

Atop telephone poles

And if there’s one tree in a prairie

All of the cattle

Find its shade.

From the highway 

I can see nothing for miles

But the crop fields look so full

I imagine walking across the tops

Of fuzzy tipped wheat stocks

And feeling something soft

On my aching feet.

I realize I have not let myself rest

since the last time I came West.

On the floor in the basement of my parent’s house

I build myself a bed

With an air mattress and three blankets

Just another recent grad

with not much of a reason 

To be anywhere, really.

I am searching for a reason

To go anywhere. Really. 

After four years East

I worry there is not much for me here

But there is space for me, at least.

When I feel stress or fear

For what might come next

I move forward. 

I arrive on my sister’s doorstep

Five hours South

With the clothes on my body, a book, 

and three changes of underwear

She turns the couch into a bed,

Hugs me and says, 

“Have you eaten yet?”

Someone told me that someone said

It doesn’t matter what you do

As long as you do something.

I feel the allure of a cowboy –

To climb on the back of a horse

Or in the passenger seat of a car

To go do something somewhere far

With no plans, really,

But with so much intention.

*Published in Montana Woman Magazine issue no. 20