Saturday, April 3, 2010

Beyond velvet purpled mountains,
beyond my reach
the golden globe
of life
sinks.

Nearer to me
tender stems of paloverde
play in a breeze so gentle
while roots
strengthen their grip
within the earth

Do others hear
winds whisper
through these thorned limbs
and not hear their cries?

Am I only
aware of blood
trickling
from it's outstretched veins
oozing
from gnarled joints
saturating the ground
with darkened pools of pain?

I a fading world
this paloverde and I
wait, wait
for the black of night

1 comment:

  1. Oh I love this one Nancy. Have a blessed Easter Sunday! xo

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