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It is maddening

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.

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