. . . . . . . . . .Chihuahua Desert
Blood slid to soil
and our roots splintered
wide like needle-edged
leaves of agave.
We can never escape
this desert root, dry
to core and apt
for bitter survival,
snide thirst.
A cacti can be barren
then, overnight, sprout flame
petals, but the root,
that hollow moon-
mimicking flesh, holds
below sand in shadow clay,
below breezes that slither
over the desert. Cold
and hard to hold it
in place. This change
is western wind, only
surface sand will scatter
to confuse a traveler
searching for the single
citrine sprouted flower.
Part of The Learned Pig’s Wolf Crossing editorial season, spring/summer 2017.
Image credit: Squid Ink, via Flickr
