Under the Moab Sky

A million words define the silence
as heat stoked winds circle within
canyon walls, broken by weather,
turned into stories in dancing firelight.

Ute and Navajo spirits lift us
into the night sky where we become
the constellations our grandparents
taught us about eons ago.

Red rocks form eerie faces
Reminding us of distant places
Familiar yet foreign in their grimace
or their sorrowful smiles.

Like the woman who lost her child
while washing her linens in the Colorado.
He toddled off to catch a lizard
and became an image in the clouds.

The woman mourns her child.


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