Obituary: Ana Maria Rojas Fragoso
The dry desert air pierced your skin,
and it seemed the sun
had sent you his sharpest ray.
These conditions will never change.
The cold bite
of the desert night
sent chills down your spine.
You chose to keep walking
with nirvana in your sights.
You walked some more
and some more,
throwing away whatever you can
to help ease the never-ending ache.
Ahead of you
was an ocean of sand
that looked as if it could gobble you whole.
It’s fine particles like knives
being dragged through the wind
to you.
There was a green valley
with grass you so desperately wanted to lay in.
You took your final steps,
and with your final steps
you laid in your valley of green grass,
took your last breath,
and just like that
you were dust.