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.

Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s