Cenizo Journal Spring 2019 | Page 17

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