-bryce canyon, utah
fairies pace across slabs of sandstone,
change guard beneath granite arches
that span slickrock mesas, splotched
by the footprints of desert druids
and the fossils of high-altitude hippies.
handsome hoodoos, robust
fingers carved by wind and dust.
blood orange canyons, shimmering
and excitable, open to the hydrologic advances
of flashing floods and melting snowflakes.
i am captured, alive,
made to witness
the romantic inclinations
of smitten constellations,
as coyotes howl in clumps of tumbleweed,
and the road above is made insignificant.
an inquisitive, heavy-footed ranger
wonders why my love
is a tiny pinon seed, ready to ride
the wind, bareback.
sharktooth ridges and lava lamp buttes
make me trash my compass
in order to stay lost,
mesquite trees poke and prod careless feet,
and a well-coiled rattlesnake
can taste my sweat on her tongue:
-death remains a hard thing to kill,
especially here, my friend.
