#Desert
When pillars fail When walls break My angel can bear The unknown weight. If darkness prevails
On waves of midnight blue— We shoved off in the boat— It mattered not where to— Anywhere at a casual knot. We entered a world of darkness
Coming from within a rising hedge Of voluptuous white oleander— I sensed a turmoil; one writhe Seduced better than before And within the naked boughs
I saw a woman emerge from a shadow With a sly demeanor and look about… Her sequined dress was aglow. She didn’t know I was also out. I watched her remove a silver shoe
Gentle Earth, I beg of you— Whisper to us the first sign of sp… Annul this wintry despair And a season of life anew, bring. From the depths of Baja
What a brutal sun that assaults th… Where cacti and mescals dare to ab… Here and there, dozens of petrogly… Decorating the canyon may be espie… In large nesting circles neatly dr…
He comes around the wall And I feel my quickened heart. I dare to look even while Seconds become a moment. He passes with dull eyes
The treetop glimmers outside my wi… As light, dancing upon the leaves— Shimmers off each leaf in soft yel… From afar, my attention is retriev… By light, pure and perfectly aglow…
Last night remains a scent Remembered at slow length— Drawn from the air, lingering abou… A secret kept under my breath. The union of your soft lips
What a curtain Bisbee has That keeps Mexico subdued And influences the lands From which the Sierra was hewn. What purple folds keep Oaxaca
Keep your vigil, whispers of gray— Speak of what I do understand. Assault the evil glare of day; It doesn’t speak for my heart – Rather for the city made of stone
The Sahara is another vast sea Of zero-edge horizons And remote hours of austerity For “sailors” upon caravans And the Sun beams mercilessly
Good morning, fair cardinal— How are you? How are your children? Your plumage is nearly outdone By the sun’s golden hue.
My friend once sighed That he watches planes fly by And wonders where they’re going. The world’s tempo beats on. I, too, prefer to stop along
On Havana’s white shore – With each salt-infused whirl That agitates its border— Every sand is a potential pearl.