Poetry

Desert

Photo by Cynthia Winward on Unsplash

Some days the desert is so still
you can hear your pulse
A step onto the crusted sand
breaks holy bonds —
criminal steps —
like footprints in snow
The wind has failed,
blown itself out like a dead candle
Scampering, slithering life retreats,
exposed by your presence
defiling the perfect peace
Even spiders
play their red fiddles in silence
The sun threatens with spines of fire
How far to your car?
The desert won’t spit you out like the…