A December sunrise over New Mexico brings an end
to the embryonic slumber of this strange girl’s earthen hovel.
Stepping outside to piss,
a stream splashes gorges through the frosted ground as
steam rises to the occasion.
On the eastern horizon,
the sun pokes his golden thorns over
the tattered edges of the Sangre De Cristo Mountains. Shadows disappear
as the glowing aura sprinkles a dash of tangerine below,
soft like baby’s breath. Bashful stars mill about
in the violet currents to the west.
Tipsy-toed, they curtsy and laugh
and kiss their farewells
to midnight’s glistening dew.
The bitter cold encapsulates, breathing deep to
suck with scorched lungs just
for a taste of something so sweet,
that it breaks the skin on morning teeth.
A coyote caterwauls to the dimmed moon, crying for her capitulation
to the onslaught of day,
the beast’s cackles ring of freedom’s waking revelry.
But nothing else.
no catch phrases or wasted breath from those
who buzz or whiz or clamor or curse.
All are frozen dead in their beds
as the wind whirls and gusts scatter dust
from brittle sagebrush needles.
her subtle call from the squatty shelter shatters lonely silence,
as this desert maiden before me
paces barefoot on sandstone steps.
With eyes that sparkle like winter jasmine
her whisper nibbles on my ear,
The simplicity is overwhelming.