the quiet of dark whispering her name;
the peace she had been promised
dancing just out of reach.
Weary bones carried her through the desert Ė
even when she rained an entire life
the ground stayed dry,
cracked into veins and capillaries
carrying dust and shriveled wind
to her heart and lungs.
She hoped she had been enough,
that someone had benefited
from her tears and blistered howls.
There was no promise of another storm on the horizon,
but she could feel her.