Cenizo Journal Summer 2011 | Page 22

Poetry “Not Yet” Hwy 67 South “Not Yet.” I breathed out as I panted and pedaled my way up the rise in the “all-weather” gravel road, that connects me with my fellow humans living in the desert. If you just went to walkin’ out there It’s no telling what you’d come up on It’s to hell and gone from here to there Plum up to them big hills Nothing but some scrub and a yucca ever now and then A trail of dust following an old Ranch truck Must be some cows out there And must be a draw ’bout half way You can see a string a green across there Must be cottonwoods A single row of telephone poles running straight in Far as you can see Might be some one living back in there Why else would they be Them poles. The Turkey Vulture’s gaze moved on to the next earthly bound creature, as it continued its heavenly patrol of the living and the dead. “Later you can have me. Then, I want to soar with you.” I want to spend my nights where the earth reaches for the sky; and spend my days in the heavens Riding the winds be they still or strong. Exquisite master of the thermal Daily rising from the heated earth below. Magnificent wings, Spread to expert advantage of the Laws of Lift. Soaring up beyond my view or running your course so close to the ground that looking up I meet your gaze looking down. Breathe in Breathe out Breathe in. Cynthia McKaughan K.B. Whitley 22 Cenizo Third Quarter 2011