The goldenrod now half exploded, on the edge
flowers cut across the path leading to the bracken woods
from the long grass, three young deer emerge
from the mist, into the forest they disappear
to shelter under fir and cedar boughs
just days old, they rest on mossy loam
I trace their perfect footprints
I want to follow them home.

On days like this
cool, with little winds
desert birds forage for sticks
they build nests perched in cactus
some build green in palo verde trees
always I think of baby birds in spring
hatchlings, the fledglings that fly
I travel far beyond the noise of towns
watch the movement of cooling clouds
the roundness of rain upon the ground
the grey banked scurrilous skies
of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm
daisies that close, cold amid the stones
beneath where snakes and lizards go
slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros
and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

Tree, I have come to shelter and with the rain to weep
I am soaked, barefoot with mud running through.
Soft the moss, cool and cold
to soothe my heart that bleeds.
Our waxing nights of love and moons
now fallow, a field that burns.
****** our hollow bed
of haunting, silent screams
too soon the fiery devil
too far my lover
the spring.

Sitting under these trees waiting
maybe all day for the moon
or the washing rain upon my face
lay upon this mossy grass, all sunk in
pay no mind to where I've been
no matter - awake or dreaming
I fly into the forest with birds
waxwings, Bohemians
under maple leaves
sun dappled, shining
or perched in the pinewoods
a safe place to hide away
a heart that's dying.

With eyes, like owls - great horned or a night cat's
his arms, tree branched, heavy laden, strong
with legs, sturdy pillars for mountains climbed
hair of silken silver brushed upon my skin
his essence, forged by nights and wildfire pines
his reddened lips, softly melting into mine.

All day from the canyon
the wind birds hover
the dance of pines,
the free water.

The long grass that flows,
green seaweed of the river.
September's early leaves
paper, gold upon the water,
wild yellow petals.

The river's edge
shines with flowers, fully petaled
looking out upon the water
all day the blue, green, yellow of the water
all day until the red, gold of the evening sun.

The taste of your mouth
it exploded, salt bright
upon my lips and I fell
reckless, haphazard
as the night was - of shooting stars
blushed, bright flashed, gleaming.
I fell, the thump and tumbling
of hearts, by the moon, love spun.
Your arms, bands of gold, bronze
gathered me - each part
like stars, one by one.