Mineral

Colossal bust of Ramesses II

Ozymandias Busted. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

Waynesl, 2014

What will be made of my ashes?
More than thrown bones
or leaves that lie
in a cup?
I poured the ashes of my father from the plastic box
and tried to see a man there
a life.
Not even pain remained.
We who were left climbed a rock
in the desert where his last glory had burned
and died
long, long, before his body did.
The backward Santa Ana wind
spread those minerals over sand and stone
indifferent, undifferent in their import.
Methodical Joshuas now incorporate that dust
into thorny, twisted limbs.
Neptune may accept me
And make something of my bones
Some coral or a nematode
Or shark.
The hearts I touched may heal
The minds remember
And if these words find shelter with another
Eternity will make of them my seal.

Night Wind

Image

Shadow, our first and Last cat

WayneSL 1989

My soul is restless as a cat on windy nights,
when thoughts like pretty ribbons
in the wind are dangled briefly,
catch my eye, I reach, and
off they go, to draw me out and on
to dance the dervish, fly aloft
in silvern light ascending,
whiskers twitching, wideyes shining . . . .

Eighty Degrees at Dawn

The last few neighbors find beds
quail under mom
skink on a rock
Sun through Joshua spikes lights fruit.
This is a jubilee year.
Dew on Desert Rose
drips past thorns and leaves
to moist roots locked in Caliche.
Mist made taller by the mirage
gently, slowly fades
’til petals apart reveal a melting heart.

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.