Desert Spring


I vaguely remember
what it felt like
to be alive.
When every word
that left my pen
was fire;
Ferocious devouring clans in the shade of dunes. 
I remember how
the force used to bubble up inside
like a father filled with pride. 
That was when words were creeks
breaking the core rocks
and come to a falling rest
For eyes to treasure and soul digest.

Now I am a shadow
holding on to a swing
rock steady through the silent wind

I can not remember myself
Or the cry of help
I only sit and watch the sunset
Hoping the moon wears a new dress. 



2 thoughts on “Desert Spring

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