She lies in the grass of a strange land
hands folded
across her bare chest
a sunflower
locked in death’s rigid embrace.
Her body’s overflowing
with heaps of wildflowers
with roots that burrow deep
into her flesh
in anticipation
of its return to dust.
Her momma called the cops,
her baby’s been gone far too long
won’t come home
won’t answer the phone
but they’ll never find a city girl here
lying dead in the Montana prairie,
not under all those
heaps of wildflowers
to mask the smell.
It’s almost peaceful
on this lukewarm afternoon
just as the photographer’s eyes
cloud with an emotion that is
almost remorse
as he drops the match
and the tips of the grass
above her face
sway and tickle the big blue sky
until it cries ashes.