I. drought
Triple digit summers, fires, barren winters, the heat island expanding, ready to burst. dry lakes, receding water rings of Lake Mead, Lake Powell, the Colorado River, like a grimy ring in a bachelor’s bathtub.
In the desert everything is amplified: sun’s harsh glare, shimmering heat, crisp vegetation, shrill politics, smoky air, concrete opinions.
II. demise
I never knew
a cactus arm, when sliced
resembled a star
or that something so enduring
could ever die
III. parched
all these people and
the desert—slowly dying
a crumbling shell
IV. respite—
and still: the glittering freedom of a star-filled desert sky
Very creative!! Right now, the AZ desert is getting rain.
Your last line reminds me of the first time I ever saw the Milky Way. It was on a family vacation when I was around 11 or so. We were driving across the Arco desert in Idaho. Glittering freedom!