1. Saguaro

The refracted sunlight
cut me in half.
Unexpected,
given the way, the Lord
teased with dreams of freedom.

Instead,
handing over concrete,
and busted Seagram’s bottles.
We never knew
its warmth was meant for us.

I didn’t know
the sun could arch that high,
and peer down so lovingly.

Until we drove southeast.
Limitless streaks
of orange and silver
hovered over peaks.

And,
uneven breaths,
our breaths
as we stood next to thick,
fluted columnar steams,
touching the tip of gods,
and maybe demons.

Today we smile
inside one another,
snap our camera,
rub the clay-colored dust
with our hands.
A dream of holding on,
forever.

II. Wupatki National Monument (April 3, 2012)

Empty.
Desolate.
White hands
fondling over bones
as folly.

Never a thought
about the Stickmen
working the fry-rack
at McDonald’s

Authentic native,
fiercely authentic.
I look to my friend
who stares on
with sadness.
Tears
settling in cracks
around her mouth.

Ruins are
safe memories.
Decomposed
spirits worshiping.

Oklahoman tourists
snapping photos.

Tomahawk blades
mocking
temples in jest.

The Old West
brimming all over.

She tells me
we’ll go
to Sedona.

III. Sedona

We sneak up on a pow-wow.
Not expecting us.
The crystal crowd gathers
in their rightful place

Lording over spirit and sap.
Deserving of questions.
Suckling it as renewal,
they call it healing.

The rows of white corn.
Char on either side of the stalk.
On muted,
makeshift grills.

Dust collects
over our heads.
From brown feet
dazzling in place.
Straining to meet
heaven.

In the center
of the dance floor
a Sedona shuffle.

We watch them
make love,
unashamed.

Time
steals moments
like steely nerved bandits.
My time
vanishing before me,
and I wonder,
will she love me
tomorrow?

IV. Grand Canyon

I don’t weep
when I see you.

Awe
has its
place.

I think of dreams
I’ve dreamed:
The Nile
flowing up,
The Temple of Khnum
The Door of No Return
Only dreams
when that’s
all I have.

I don’t weep
when I see you.

V. Waiting for The Greyhound Bus back to Oakland, California

Here
is where I stand.
When raindrops
claimed time and space.

Here,
at the same place.
Once called
Paradise.

It bore radiance
Brown people,
Birds,
Bees,
Flowers.

It used to be
a place
once before.

A nice place
once before.