Damn the wind

Damn the wind

WayneSL 2013

Damn the wind that scatters this land.

Damn the dusty silken webs
that lull my sodden slumber

floating here in this dry-baked cemetery

shell-shocked numb from gusty buffets

squeezing eyes shut against the blast of sand

and tasting the Hanta virus and the Greasewood.

Stinking Cheesebrush clings to shifting waves of sand

and Juniper barely holds in the higher spots

Buckwheat does not nourish
nor Hop Sage fill my parched longing.

I dream of the ocean

and the Redwoods

and lush meadows of irrepressible wild grass

while hunkering down against the angry blast

next to a Kangaroo rat and a blinking tortoise

conserving what energy and moisture we have

saving it for the dash when the Mojave Green arrives.

3 thoughts on “Damn the wind

  1. Poignant poem, filled with vivid imagery and whiffs of regret and maybe entrapment, in the grand tradition of “I’d rather be somewhere else” poetry. Love the specifics in naming the flora. As a recent escapee from the desert, I get it. One question: should “gusty buffets” have that extra “t”, i.e. “buffetts,” to indicate the maddening power of the wind? Or am I misreading the passage? K, that’s two questions, but you know what I mean.

    • I chose the single T because the doubling of the letter does not change the meaning. There is no lexical distinction between the two forms, and the single t is more common usage.
      I thank you very much for your insight. May I come live in your shed?

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