MOJAVE GREENS

 

From the bunkhouse,
a thin ribbon of light glows
upon the Animas Mountains
hours before sunrise—
men snoring inside.

Long ways from home
I can’t sleep and wait
to make coffee before
the others stir themselves
awake before leaving

for the airport in Tucson
where I leave my keys
in the basket,
pockets empty in Phoenix,
pickup parked in Fresno.

Looking back
I should have known
I had nothing in common
with people who play
with Mojave Greens

sunning themselves,
absorbing warmth
like long flat tires
swapping ends to strike
right after they inflate.

 

One response to “MOJAVE GREENS

  1. sounds like places I’ve worked!

    Like

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s