Ashen white clouds, pale as these grey bones
strewn across this desert floor and lit
by the glint of a million sparkling stones
these diamond pixels shine amid giant saguaro people
moving slow and trailing the sun, they fade with flowers
that come to close and hide away beneath the moon
underground, with deep rooted tubers
they move, pushing away cold stones
pushing through darkness
star gazing they dream
of Spring, dream of
the coming sun.
These winter trees
cold and shouldering winds
their bending branches unhinge
falling limbs crash and break the snow
further still a secret world of mud and bulbs
that in the spring blooms of tulips and violet mossy lawns
and too, the sun that comes to warm and fills with green the tree arms
so sweet this sheltering home that breathes with birdsong.
Outside my door a cawing crow
of blackened wings and indigo
delivered by night's shivering storm.
The wind and winter's howling call,
scattered nests and down the feather falls.
Crack of limbs, cold and bare branched
mesquite leaves and needles spiral to the ground.
In a swooping field he flies into the tallest pines
deep and slow, the trees creak
wild in cello tones.
The afternoon sky with its wine dark clouds
red blushed and blue, moments before the rain drenching greys
the scurrilous skies, the black winged silhouettes that fly
amid the cactus trees, thick with chaparral
a total reconstruction of sunny soft memories
this cold tumbling storm that moves overhead
to form, this desert raining lake.
where the grey
clouds and the blue
ice of winter
gather their ghosts,
winter, too cold,
too white, the
the sky oaken,
the moon’s forget-me-knots
clouds like wintery steel,
sunken, in a night pool,
the golds of my heart,
the lodestar gathers
moss and rook,
glimmers in a sky
of woven cloth,
her leaves, the trees
her leaves, the dark
breath of the storm.
winter and quiet stars
sleeping in the twilight
winter dreams of
strange ice caverns
where ice ghosts
dance with twisting
pond of ice,
wide avenues of
sleep, the dark girl,
the falling tide.
twig breaks under foot,
settle in the lizardy light
the moon rises in the sky,
soft centuries of sky.
I liked the photo very much and thought of it
the one with my shoulders bared, in the hot summer.
I remember the night before, when the monsoons came
thunderous with lightening, at 2:00 am you and I
after the drought, embraced naked in the rain.
Thought of our trips to California, the Arizona border
I took photos of the moon glow
and some days later, I was disappearing
while you were driving in some desert
I was thinking of you
and you were no longer
thinking of me.