Saguaro

Imposing green sepulchers from another planet scratch the backs of white clouds that look like rabbits and dragons and turtles driving motorbikes as they take shape and drift along the blue sea above messy heads. Booted feet crunch on fresh snow mixed with red dirt and I dance and laugh and scoop up a handful of lightness in my numb fingers and take a bite out of the frozen purity. There’s no sound but the echo of silence and hours upon hours of word-playing thoughts, fallen in that moment on the blanketed earth. Too much to say without saying, while the full moon burst through tall windows to bounce off concrete walls and cracked open faces, woolen blankets and stories to keep warm. The stars didn’t stand a chance against all that light in spite of the barren landscape dotted with scrub oak and prickly pear and the occasional cry of a peacock on the loose.

 

Written from the passenger’s side of a yellow Jeep along winding Arizona roads. March 10 2019.

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