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	August 12, 2003

DESERTS (photo of the Namibian coast desert taken from space by NASA/Earth Observatory; the dunes in the picture are as much as 1150 feet high, the world's highest) REQUIEM FOR SONORA, BY RICHARD SHELTON 1 a small child of a wind stumbles toward me down the arroyo lost and carrying no light tearing its sleeves on thorns of the palo verde talking to itself and to the dark shapes it touches searching for what it has not lost and will never find searching and lonelier than even I can imagine the moon sleeps with her head on the buttocks of a young hill and you lie before me under moonlight as if under water oh my desert the coolness of your face 2 men are coming inland to you soon they will make you the last resort for tourists who have nowhere else to go what will become of the coyote with eyes of topaz moving silently to his undoing the ocotillo flagellant of the wind the deer climbing with dignity further into the mountains the huge delicate saguaro what will become of those who cannot learn the terrible knowledge of cities 3 years ago I came to you as a stranger and have never been worthy to be called your lover or to speak your name loveliest most silent sanctuary more fragile than forests more beautiful than water I am older and uglier and full of the knowledge that I do not belong to beauty and beauty does not belong to me I have learned to accept whatever men choose to give me or whatever they choose to withhold but oh my desert yours is the only death I cannot bear (from his Collected Poems 1982) 11:12:37 AM  trackback []  comment []

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