In a soft voice that no one heard
But the murmur in her heart repeated it
Falling off a cliff
Arms across the chest
Do her bones ache
or cut like knives as they burst from the skin?
Do they smash and splinter
into a million tiny pieces?
Her eyes focus on
Bright pink bitterroot hanging, clinging,
pushing up through
the cracks and crevices of jagged stone
to thrive in rock and dust
catching the rays of sun from the sky