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