Never

they wrote of their arroyos
I fled cactus stung waiting for
all the flowers to bloom at

the same time.became interminable.
if it's not your desert
you shouldn't be there

a something acerbic hummed
along the wires and where
the dust settled, but not

permanently.
in desert winds you trudged along
yes you, the one reading the poem

and you'll know what I mean
when I say that for sure
they were never

singing your song.

mary angela douglas 28 march 2016