Descansos
time,
fluid
wild and constant,
each fork
bending life
back upon itself
it’s a mad dash
of braided time
we share,
with its hairpin turns
and unscripted detours
our defining moments
catalogued
into a winding
patchwork
of crossroads
each mile marked,
not by what we kept
but how we lived,
who we loved
memorialized
roadside tokens
of remembrance
woven into
the geography
of our lives