Lori never knew me.
I made her up for poems.
For men to fight over like the Greek Helen.
Sometimes in the dark of night
she walks around
seeking a bridge over the canyon.
Lori does not understand
the rift in her earth
or that it mirrors the Taos gorge.
To date no men have fought over her.
Though, the ones she dates
fight with her regularly.
It has something to do with her
calling them cowards
for not appreciating her independence.
Lori sits at the edge of the rift
and looks down nine hundred feet
to the silvery strand of river.
Instead of a thousand ships launched
she would prefer a thousand engineers
building her that bridge.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney