Alone? (in Zion)

drawing by me, 6/29/2020

Z is heading home.
“Z,” you casually name her,
the lone crow gliding to and fro
casting a shadow of her silhouette
on the trail ahead.

Thirty miles of grandeur
on this lonely, lonely plate
is how long it takes to
grind you into a grain of sand,
a rootless leaf —
little weightless nothing.

Some things you can never forgo:
a guitar with frizzled strings,
mom’s hand-knit beanie,
warm soup, wooden spoon.
Luckily, in this desert,
we are passing guests
with borrowed time,
wandering, wandering, wandering…

At dusk,
flocks of blackbirds surge the sky,
their whirlwind wings thundering
“home! home! home!”

On your knees,
you beg to be taken by their storm.