Monday, March 28, 2016


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

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