Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Never There

once she tried to run away
on a cryptic morning
while pillows muffled her thoughts
and she rose out of twisted sheets
when nobody else was home

          but they were never there in the first place

she knew the route but her nose bled
yet she ran leaving tracks of blood
and specific drops of grief
then cars curved past her suffering
her flight beyond their grasp

          but they were never there in the first place

her eyes half-shut she found it hard
to disappear inside a faultline with knots
waterlogged roads, cities of fogs
and, her grief moving at high speed,
she switched lanes and ran back to them

          but they were never there in the first place

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Prompt: a story poem