Northern_Lights_2016

11 Information Nicole Christiansen Sitting in a four-by-four cubicle, searching for information. Opening laptop to get the four-one-one; it’s there twenty-four-seven. Internet answering with a silent “Ten-four,” traveling to the four corners in search. Oh no—Error four-oh-four. What?! No information? Staring in disbelief, uttering four-letter words. I Watched You in the Rearview Mirror I watched you in the rearview window. I watched you walk into our home. Your fingers grazed our stucco, You touched the brass handle. I watched you pause— when your heart couldn’t watch me leave. I lost you as we drove. I lost you as we took a left Onto that old, familiar road. I lost you in the blur Of green and brown, In the blur of the swamp. I remember the windows were down. The air was wet. And sticky And drowning. I cried when I lost you And I cried when we drove away. I cried because the wind dried my tears. I cried because you deserved all the tears. I cried for you Because I didn’t want you To cry for me. Erin Ballard