A Spring Desert Dawn

The sun is rising.
The dog’s lying in the grass
listening to the crickets.

The roses are blooming
along with daffodils.
The wind swings them.

My orange cat’s purring on
The window sill.
Wind whistles through
the window screens.

The sky is lighting up,
burning with
warm glowing hues.

Just outta bed, I
open the wooden door
and sit on the porch.

Chimes sing.
The air is full of
fine sediments
blown in
from the desert.

Sad Thing Happened Today

Today, My brother, my cousin and I were coming back across a very remote area on the Arizona Strip on our way back from Toroweap, of the Grand Canyon. That is where we had been camping. You have to traverse 64 miles of Primitive dirt road to reach this part of the canyon, and we had some bad luck while heading home. My cousin took his truck because it offered 4-wheel drive, but his tire went flat because of a tear. We had some help from a stranger, and that was a lucky thing. We thanked him.

After an hour or more of driving, we came across some ranchers who were herding cattle down the road. They had a twelve-year-old boy that was following them (he was driving a truck and trailer with horses in the back!), and their sheepdog was following behind. As we were passing them, they were stopped and their sheepdog went under the truck, and maybe it was for shade? Anyways, as we were passing them the boy ran over his dog, killing it. It was terrible. We stopped and hollered them down, and the boy came out screaming for his dad with tears in his eyes. His mother had been sitting in the passenger seat. I’ve never seen anything so disheartening, and we were about 38 miles from the main highway.

All the way home, we couldn’t stop talking about what had happened. I can only imagine how this boy must be feeling? I wished I could’ve done more to help?

Stuff like this makes you realize how fragile and short life can be.

The Dead Coyote

I pulled my car up to a post marker off the side of the highway,
and there hung a dead coyote. Its head was tied to the post with bailing wire

His face was covered in blood
and his glassy eyes were still open staring at the broken sky.
its tongue was hanging out and drizzling.

I feel anger and sorrow for this murdered creature.
I wanted to untie his body and bury his soul somewhere remote.
a secret place where he could rest.

The coyote, a friend, but they stuck him on display
wasting his life away. They cut his ears off at the base
for some sort of bounty for the local BLM.

I can’t stop seeing into those glassy eyes and into the shadows of the beast.
Hopelessly hanging there, fur whipping in the wind. I’m connected to its death.
cold blood moving. the breathing is brittle and short.

As I looked at you coyote I felt the sorrow of this world.
Those damned cowboy men with chewing tobacco, leaving beer can trails all over
are bloody murderers and thieves of this ancient land.

They mock the very soul of this beautiful wild.