Chris and Rollo

Chris and Rollo

Saturday, April 17, 2010


The road at noon is bright and dusty brown
Taking the turns in stride through each adobe town
Roadside shacks sprout drying jalapeno vines
Tall pines jut from solid rock withstanding Time's
Withering winds, scorching bad land sun ‘
Til mountain night calls hell's time done
As snake and scorpion emerge to dance
A desert jig, to slither and chance
The dark to gather darkness' loaded fates
Immune to conscience's loves and hates.
The road is dusty, barren brown,
Aromatic piney peppers from fences through town,
The mesa north, flat and wind worn
Looms ahead, as rocky peaks lurk forlorn,
Shadows false shade shall not provide
Sanctuary from the relentless sun's eye,
From blistering noonday heat, till climbing
Mountains seems no trouble like arriving
Into my worried ear in fretful half-dream
The ride should stay uneventful as a nap by the stream
To sooth my feet, to wash the dust
From my tired eyes,I do know I must
Get some sleep before I dare to test
The desert's lethal promise to unrested
Travelers, and durable spiders and snakes
Whose underestimations of danger are their last made mistakes

© Celeste Plowden 2010

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