The Desert

— Keith Ekiss

I lift a rock, the scorpion tenses,
amber telson curled in question.

Rattlesnakes through grass shake
venomous rattles. If she strikes,

I’m taught to spit out the poison.
Salt thirst: throat gully dry,

day sweats out from me everywhere.
Hummingbird heart, my dizzy steps

revise the weeds. Trees look parched,
undivided into beautiful and lacking.

Shadows evaporate like water.
No river, not even stones worn smooth.

Slingshot snap, my pebble never meets
its crow. What threatens will disappear.

Hurry home, the future all fairway and green,
targeted with ribbons and stakes.

One thought on “The Desert

  1. Such wondful twists in your phrasing. Surreal, and yet absolutely clear in feeling. Dizzies my brain as if it were baked in the sun.

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