sometimes I can't breathe.
sometimes the air, like water, closes over my head
and it's all I can do but cry
and sometimes I do.
and sometimes the drowning, the pressure of
the earth on my body like Atlas, oh God,
it hurts, and tears float off my cheeks and I feel
weak and afraid and alone.
Wyoming scares me.
the way you can see all around and the
sky stretches out like a child throwing
a temper tantrum.
the way that hiding is impossible, for almost so,
even entombed beneath the bed- comforting somehow.
and you can't shrink back, you must confront
and stand up straight against
all that is there and God-
(if there is one, I don't know, just to stay safe)
God watches over and looks and pries and shames,
all of those in his path, Oh Lord,
I am afraid
of Wyoming.