Cari Oleskewicz
The Mesa

If I must die,
let it be in the desert
where the light summoned
us to see the mountains

and then we sat down
to paint. Later we hurried
a lazy cow across the gravel
so we could go to church.

Three dogs watched and inside
we found instructions
on how to die
a holy death.

My mother is the mesa.
the eroding rock shape-shift
into canyons while words

settle into my heart.
Let me be the sheep’s
grass while I turn my head
to sleep.

Cari Oleskewicz is a poet and writer based in Tampa. Her poems, essays, and short stories have been published by Fourth River, Literary Orphans, PITH Journal, Blotterature Literary Journal, Sandhill Review, and The Found Poetry Review. She is currently at work on a collection of travel essays and can be found bouncing back and forth between Florida and Europe.