Friday, April 1, 1983


                          (Saguaro Arms)

Off the crisp edges of dunes,
a fine spray of sand forms into rivulets.
Rocks glisten in manganese hues
dressed in eons of desert varnish.

In that arid landscape of the heart,
opuntia, beavertail, cereus.
Saguaro arms reach for cerulean
dreams of desert sky.

The yucca's pale scent
attracts the moth.
In the desert, a blossom lives
throughout the night
and into the cool dawn hours
before it withers and dies.

The only rhythm of the desert
is the slow heartbeat 
of the saguaro after rain.

Spring 1983
rev. 10/15


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