J e n n i f e r   M a r t e l l i

 

The Range

 

Some people crave open spaces, the range pulled 

taut as a bed sheet and expectant. I got lost 

 

driving through a town built on a flatland. 

The world could have ended as it arced 

 

miles down the highway. I aimed 

straight, all the way to the horizon line. 

 

If the heat hadn’t rippled and warped 

the road, I could have fallen off the edge clean.