INYO MOUNTAINS

My first time in the desert
I was a small as an ant
carrying one grain of sand at a time.

The moon recounts
these aging ripples in the pond,
growing younger after a rock is tossed in.

Blue edge of water
measures distance
between rock and beach.

Airborne prisms searching for rainbows.

Inyo mountains, jagged teeth
a portal of the sky
orange clouds tease the blue snow.

Shadow and snow,
tree and dance,
what's left over is pure residue.

One more tree defines its role.
Each season, another job.

In the desert night, lights,
a mirage of conquered valleys

This fertile floor and strange harvest.

4/87
not sure of the date.
Next poem is dated 5/16.