nothing is the same. images are softened into haze and blur of sightsound sense impressions. the hiss of the wind through grass, the harsh chirp of the prairie dogs from the shelter of their holes blur together like the rabbit in the grass. i won’t remember the sickness of the day, the dizziness and nausea and fatigue that slowed me, with the same clarity. but i will remember taking gasping breaths of open air outside of the city and the first sense of it fading as the sun snuck behind clouds. i’ll remember the endless path we followed for less than forever, the splashes of color against endless scrub in green and brown.
i’ll remember the noise of silence, the arms of sunlight reaching toward the mountains
and the way your back looked walking away from me.