UNTITLED
A mountain thunderstorm
Walks into the desert
Spilling a ribbon of
Holy water
SUNDAY MORNING
The night rain gone but lingers—
Cirrus clouds stretch a cool front
Over the Chisos Mountains—
Ocotillos bloom like fire switches—
Behind the Del Carmens
The sun finds seams
In racing grey-belly clouds—
Shadows piebald foothills—
In her breath that fills me
She races far from me—
I wring my head trying to free
A memory never found.
My legs weaken
Gravel bites my knees—
Then my palms.
Gratitude moves slowly
Along the desert floor.
Shadows play
A metal-black beetle
Navigating its dung ball
To the lip of a dry runnel—
On the rim of stillness, Silence
Spills into an unborn sea
Cenizo
Second Quarter 2019
17