The card shows maps—
thin gold lines
crossing the green edges
of the world.
A hot air balloon lifting
into paper sky,
promising adventure.
The quote says
it matters less where we stand
than where we are moving.
At twenty-six
I did not feel like I was moving—
only falling
forward.
A broken engagement
in the rearview mirror,
a Mazda packed with caffeine
and a courage
I had never tested.
Hostels.
Strangers.
Skylines that did not know my name.
The card arrived
with a little money folded inside—
a quiet I’m proud of you.
My father’s handwriting
simple as weather:
Be brave.
I believe in you.
Of all the things
he ever gave me,
this was the one
that understood direction.
I have kept it
all these years—
a small gift of paper
reminding me
that sometimes
the bravest map
is the one
that only says
go.
Sarah Gill is a Tulsa-based poet and undergraduate student at Oklahoma State University. Her work explores memory, connection, loss, and the quiet moments that shape us. Her chapbook, Where the Sky Touches the Ribcage, won the 2026 NFSPS College Undergraduate Poetry Competition. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading, watching horror movies, or starting a craft project she rarely finishes.