Dreams in Color
He holds her
A slice of lime
Bobs in a cocktail glass
Like a life preserver
Bougainvillea Flowers
Fly in simmering winds
Scrape across pavement
Her Indigo heart
The pendulum
Of a Grandfather clock
Eyes closed
Her kisses
Velvet fireworks
Before the alarm
Nightmare
She is black and white
Acrid smolder smoke
Beach and sand flea
Scalp itch
A ship on the rocks
Lolling in waves
Bodies dot the shore
A forced smile
Bilge water bubbles out
Her hands
Frozen lab rats
Seagulls
Shrill in landing
Claim remains
Coyote
Scrawny, fur juts out
Rough like a drunk
Waking from an all-night bender
Our brains lock
Is he rabid?
Am I dangerous?
Our space between
Connects with speculation
From the Saguaro hole
Fashioned by sharp beak
Cactus wren leaps into flight
A gecko
Rapid start and stops
Makes his way
Along the red clay brick
Retaining wall
Resident bull snake
Curls under the woodpile
Her meal lumped in midsection
Mice relax
In their dirt hovels
After a night of survival
Mourning doves coo
Fidget the nest of twigs,
Quail peck
Hundreds of mesquite pods
Helicoptered to Earth
The mechanical wail
Of a neighbors garage door
Startles coyote
His legs of coiled spring
Lopes up the street
A vagrant without a sign
Century Plant
Thirty years to flower
Bees lust its’ pollen
Value its’ long maturation
Before the tall stalk withers
She asks
What is the purpose
To reach for heaven then die
As if being needs value
A meteors’ torch
Confirms its’ presence
Then fades into night
In honeycomb days
I admired all flowers
In full nectar flow
My heart a buzzing hive
Until wayward winds
Set them adrift
I’ve grown tired
Of reason and purpose
Seasons of blossom and purge
The bloom of knowledge
Perennial and common
It is not me to wonder why
Logic wilts under desert sun
I am a seed
Dropped from a tall stalk
For quail to peck
Earth to bury from sight
My Bus Stop
I waited under a towering pine
Sentry at the end of our long driveway
Sap slothful ooze, my fingers sticky
Snapping twigs to make mini log cabins
Repaired the village after storms
Two stone pillars, between the driveway
And the humpback road that lead to the lake
The bus nosed in to turn around
Once got wedged on a snowy day
By one pillar, the driveway broke apart
I dug out a buffalo head nickel
From the packed dirt
Ran over a snapping turtle with my Schwinn
Mistaking it for a smooth stone
The musk of pine permeated
Most pungent on cold or rainy days
The stone wall housed Copperheads
I was told not to climb it
But did anyway
In kindergarten
The bus stop was too far from home
I would look back as the bus roared up
Tearful longing gazing past the lilac bush
To the stone steps, to the back door
Where my mother was cleaning
Education was a fearful thing
Then the bus door swung open
Dominic the driver
Small man with thick accent
Would greet with a smile
It was enough to get me onboard
Take the ride
That would change everything