The Poem


Uniquetown, U.S.A.
Impressions
from the Nevada Desert



By day, the sky dangles between
benevolence
and a firm caress.

Images transform
as afternoon welcomes evening
and dusk dances with twilight
during the moment called magic hour.

By night, the heavens grow
deeper
larger
wider
longer
and more suggestive of whatever your mind can conjure.

In the darkness we see
a million tiny suns
through the millennia of Einstein's playground.

Horizon meets the edge of the world
and there is the shimmer
of a glimmer
of the glitter
of the moon.

Next day's sunbeams glide along your skin
in a manner that pleases
lizards
and cats.
A shower of light
radiates upon you,
cohabitating with your body heat.

Eddies, currents, swirls, and gusts of billowing air
dry the thin coating of water
on your body.
Forecast: stunning mood swings. . .
107 degrees Fahrenheit plummets to 32.
Stillness stretches forever. . . until those 75mph winds.

And always, everywhere, sand.
Solid, yet shifting.
Prehistoric.
Yet right here. And here. And here.

Comes a White Out.
Furious dust engulfing everything.
Add a little lightning
just to shock the sky.

Beauty comes in many forms,
shapes
colors
bodies.
People interface.
Who is who?
Shaman, spirit, poet.
Musician, storyteller, guide.
Partner, worker, trader.

Always present: the angels' playground of
Stars. . .
alone & clustered
Stars. . .
random & patterned
Stars. . .
reaching their fingers of light through atmosphere and time
Stars. . .
touching your eyes
as you gaze out of our world
not knowing
if you are really
looking
up
down
or
sideways
in the
universe of now.

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