Author Information
Vista
The desert is breathing magnitudes
I find myself caught up between vortexes and
lushful creeks
Or the man face carved by the wind on the
highest peak
I saw
everything as it should have been
My soul was licked clean, its teeth
toothpicked and whirl-winded. Silent, in its grey womb.
I am, and that's it. Right now I just am.
My mind was scrubbed immaculate on a brown and
tin washboard
And I felt a different angle of wind when I
climbed to the top of a thousand red rocks
Beauty meant something else up there
The sandstone crunch under my feet had not
been touched in a day, a decade, or a
hundred dry years
I do not know.
I only know, that up there, I was and have become
someone else.
