The universe lurks
in the magic of the hours:
the evening sun slides behind
the ruins of an old stone house
and the cholla thicket, strewn
with the wreckage of windblown leavings—
The universe lurks
in the magic of the hours:
the evening sun slides behind
the ruins of an old stone house
and the cholla thicket, strewn
with the wreckage of windblown leavings—
Traces—faint or bold, visible, or not—left by scalpel, scandal, scurrilous tongues, the scalding steam from a cast-iron kettle, the scolding tones in a mother’s voice, the screams of a child scared straight.
Read more. Picture Rocks Canyon: Paisley
scarlet bandana caught on gray thornbush
sprouting from naked rock. Lavender-
blooming ironwood, swift
zebra-tailed lizards and always
the cactus wrens for company.