Poetry

Litanies Against Dying, 23 (205.)

Strange calm descends upon the soul.
Trees are taller than my small frame, and the storm clouds
are so inviting.
Can it be cozy outside?
Scent of rain fills brain with happy chemicals.
Water in the desert, better than
manna any day,
wash all the dust and dirt away.
Just for now –
the dust is always part of us,
we desert rats,
and we’ll scurry all our lives
and still shine with glistening fur.

Amen to the moody mountains,
letting the clouds pass.
Amen to the fickle winds,
ushering everyone to the proper spots.

Amen, amen, amen to the sagebrush,
always thirsty and
dancing frantically for drinks.

Standard

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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