Room To Breathe

In Montana the sky
is so big that it takes
a day for your mind
to catch up with
what is seen and felt
by your heart and eye.

You told me a place like this
would really give you
room to breathe and
a chance for time alone,
to sort out your feelings
and rediscover if what
we had was real.

I left you at a hotel
in Bozeman with two
packs of smokes,
four beers,
dirty laundry,
bruises, and
a Greyhound ticket
out of my life.

In Montana the big sky
turned red
with my rage.
I wonder,
if time apart
and room to breathe
will always mean
that my usefulness
has been
snuffed out,
like a cheap
cigarette.