Montana Sky


There was a night, during those early days of us,

when you said, “We need a big Montana sky,”

while staring up at the gray felt ceiling of my car.

Neither of us knew what this meant, as

neither of us had ever been to Montana, but I think about

your Montana sky wish, from time to time,

all these years later,

wondering what the hell were you talking about?

. . .

It was a pretty thought, and sometimes still is.

I imagine an infinite night sky, filled with stars

we would never see in the city, or during the day

bright blue against red, clay hills and grassy fields.

No, I never took the time to look in books for pictures.

. . .

There is no place to accommodate the past,

no landscape quite vast enough to house the grief and sighs

which floated up like birds of smoke in the dark.

There is no place, except possibly your Montana sky.

Maybe that is what you meant.

. . .


This post was written as part of WordPress’ Daily Post series.

5 responses »

  1. Pingback: Shine On, You Crazy Diamond | Chopping Potatoes

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