Javelina starlight on a gravel trail, here’s the way
they carry news down
from where desert dreams to
darkness parting on the lower slopes.
On scented nights there is
a path to follow
lined with ants and prickly pear, the way
down being easy to the hoof
when the land rolls gently underneath
each step. So peacefully the rocks
rest in positions
they have been assigned. The earth
lies back with one eye open.
Soft clouds overhead, sharp moon, noses
to the stony way from
higher ground to low, bearing an account
of how tranquil the world
could have been. It’s the hour
negotiations are on hold, convenience
stores that stay open twenty-four
hours to service
a nervous city glow
from their chilly cold case hearts, the word
progress lies awake and imagines
it could mean improvement. Slowly,
slowly, bite into a cactus pad, chew
thorns, body weight and light of step, become
witnesses without the words
to tell what witness sees.
David Chorlton
.