Desert Blonde
Her love
Pours mingled with the sand
That flows from fingers
In the burnt sirocco winds.
I'm opening my lips
As if to kiss,
Awaiting water from the fountain,
Her oasis eyes
Another mirage that mists
As I crawl close.
- 1/14/25
Awaiting Snow
The weighted metal cover Holding high the heavens Settles over And on us Uneasy. We are waiting on a birth. We're unaware and unsure If the tranquillized sky Is actually expecting. Cars in awe will smash And slide off highways. Venerating pipes will swell And bulge And burst. The guilty trees will be bowed down Confessing reverent And snap. And yet, we open arms and stare Beside ourselves And float up prayers for softest flakes And cloud carpets to drop upon The filthy earth. - 1/10/25
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