the smell of mesquite
cold dirt
and sage
i smell these things
gladly
and feel the crisp air on my face
as I sit alone
breaking a twig in my hand
over and over
until there is nothing
more to break.
i watch as the sun sets
turning rocks pink
then blue
the sky darkens
my hands cold now
and it’s maddening.
i’m waiting for you
to come back
so we can get warm
by some fire
and be quiet.
alone with my thoughts
the coyote and roadrunner
throw anvils at each other
my brain a cartoon of
riches and nerves
and I laugh out-loud
to see a coyote in front of me
followed by a road runner
in their natural habitat –
not my mind.
the desert presents itself
with subtle majesty
and ruthlessly shows us
ourselves
no matter how distracting
the beauty.
i hear the crunch of
footsteps
zip up my jacket
and greet you.
madness receding
momentarily
with
the light.