like poetry

I move through Canyons

the way a lover slips a hand between closed thighs

pressing, yearning


I smell dirt, and flowers, and trees

the way an insurgent smokes his final cigarette, staring down the firing squad

passionately, defiantly


I follow the sand-tracks of the soft-footed ones

the way a hungry child makes her way to the kitchen

sniffing, grinning


I kneel and drink from the creek

the way a pilgrim finally kisses the cool black stone

reverently, gratefully


I dance before the Goddess

the way young lovers first share a bed

awkwardly, earnestly


I climb the cottonwood tree

the way a newborn first finds milk

reaching, trusting


And I reach for my lover

the way I move through canyons

like poetry



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s