Tuesday, December 2, 2014

My Unexpected Desert Life

With my unexpected lizard wife
Where half-expected monsoon rains
Tear tiny bits of roofs and soil away,

Accidental sculptors that only work
In pathetically fallacious fits,
Then go to sleep for half a year

While the precarious sandstone piles
Left crack an odd hard frost at a time
And wait on the next fire or next rain.

No verbs wanted here, just thick
Ochre begging beggar's description
And lizards, saints in my age of sage.

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