MICHELLE TURNER

Another Last Day

 —Mesa Verde

In a dream, I dropped
to the floor of a kiva, pressed
my mouth to dust and stone,

then left

my request for wisdom
on a broken voicemail machine.

Today’s the burnt nub
of a season, summer’s last lick
before the equinox—

I can’t figure

how I’ve spent
the rotations, the ninety-one
warm nights.

The high desert flickers
with what is not my body,
not my mind,

not yet—
a storm out over the mesa.

Is time the trick?
Who will want to call me
in a thousand years? 

Michelle Turner’s poetry has appeared in Spoon River Poetry Review, Southern Humanities Review, Sixth Finch, The Greensboro Review, Harpur Palate, and elsewhere. She holds an MFA from the University of Michigan and recently relocated from Northern Colorado to Southern Arizona, where she works as a student success coach for a local nonprofit and as an independent editor.