Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
In my wilderness walks, I often come across piles of trash left by thoughtless humans. Today I stumble upon a tangled mess of bedsprings and old fence wire, fixing it with an icy glare. Who would dare to brag about cluttering the landscape with their castoffs? If I were to speak to the perpetrators, my words would not be polite. This stuff will be here for all to see until rust consumes it. This tangled mess will desecrate the desert for years. Paradoxically, it also gives birth to a poem:
On these rusty springs
silk sheets are superfluous—
driven sand will do.
Who slept in this now worthless bed—a grizzled old rancher and his wife of forty years? Maybe their three young children huddled together for warmth on cold winter nights. I will never know. But the wind and the sun and the stars know. And that is enough.
Posted on January 24, 2013, in Arizona, Carpe Diem, desert, fence, Friday's Fences, haibun, Sky Watch Friday, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona, Three Word Wednesday. Bookmark the permalink. 30 Comments.