a yellow flower
or two,
ones I can't name,
survived June's arid,
brutal assault
ant mounds abound; scorpions
aren't despondent
Timothy grasses, weeds
don't complain
always there are
mesquites
stubborn adolescents
unaware steer dung left
their ancestors here
this is not a place one
can walk barefoot
not even the Comanche
had such soles
I tried, but you
lashed out
leaving goatheads
and other burrs
in my heels
perhaps to
remind me
I bought you,
but I own
nothing
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
a yellow flower
or two,
ones I can't name,
survived June's arid,
brutal assault
ant mounds abound; scorpions
aren't despondent
Timothy grasses, weeds
don't complain
always there are
mesquites
stubborn adolescents
unaware steer dung left
their ancestors here
this is not a place one
can walk barefoot
not even the Comanche
had such soles
I tried, but you
lashed out
leaving goatheads
and other burrs
in my heels
perhaps to
remind me
I bought you,
but I own
nothing
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