“Desert Dream,” New Era, Aug. 1990, 28
The cool red sand beckons my feet
To shed stiff shoes and burrow
Into its secret coolness.
The sun shines from a photograph,
Where its rays on the steep stone
Warm my back.
I long for the flight of the raven.
Gliding and crying above the juniper.
Fanning desert heat.
But I live like the lizard in winter.
Buried asleep under rocks and snow,
Waiting for a change.