Below in the Great Valley

Below in the Great Valley

Where is my little life
Below in the great valley
I looked for a home
Never returning anywhere

They all went out to discover
So discover; that they did
Milky way reflected in a dust floor
Must be why its lost some luster

I watched a stranger’s eyes die
And my life with his
There are no more guns in the valley, they say
But there are dried out rivers
There is more death when there’s no killing
And so I should feel so blessed
In this slow fading
And so I should pray in gratitude
That this is all just Toyland
That we are all stellar remains
That we are all afraid

I’m looking at my little life
A cactus flower blooming
Never to know a glimmer of dawn
Reaching in the coyote’s midst
Who knew two beauties to meet and part
In such soundless wonder

Melanie Falconer is a freelance writer and editor living in Los Angeles, California. Her writing mainly concerns philosophy, personal experiences, cultural commentary, and her love of the visual and performing arts. If you’d like to reach out to her, you can do so here.