Sand
Having moved with the water
It can move like the water.
Having moved with the wind
It can move like the wind.
Having moved with the rock
It can move like the rock.
In my crotch,
Stuck between my toes,
Gritty,
Clinging to my scalp,
Sand travels with me home.
Having moved with me,
It can move like me.
Ditch walk
Intake —
Your breath, an instinct
to the cottonwood boughs
mingling overhead,
the dark side of twilight sky,
distant stars dimming,
close star cresting
the mountain,
everything is about to be
illuminated.
Tracks to follow
through the dim minutes of the hour.
Smells to investigate —
Your canine companion
has begun his frenzied sleuthing.
Muddy brown flow
Gurgles alongside your trail.
Rusted trucks —
Backyard toys —
Seats for two —
— Caged peacocks
— Wild quail
— Roots —
— Houses unseen from the road —
Full speed pit bull, off leash!
It happened once —
Today —
another leash in hand.
Coyote yips —
Teenage hours spent
traipsing
in the dark
searching for
places to make
secrets.
The darkness still
Veil of the early hours
Lifted
Turn and return.
— Outtake
A sigh,
A task complete.
