Kick the song ahead of you,
kick it into the mist and spume,
even though you are shaking,
and three women spinning yarn
are laughing at you.
Kick the song of ruin,
kick it over the boat
where the grey-headed vagrant
slips into sleep
under the spell of opioids.
Kick the song out of the way,
so that no one ever hears it again.
Do not be afraid.
A gravel road at sunrise, Yuma County, Arizona
August sunrise, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
Palo verde tree just before sunrise, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Southern California
Abandoned railroad tracks, Ajo, Arizona
A winter day, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
Wixáritari woman on Cerro de la Bufa, Zacatecas, México
Where, O where, has my little boy gone?
Where, O where, can he be?
I’ve looked for him high, I’ve looked for him low,
I’ve looked for him up in a tree!
The moment I find him, what should I do?
(I fear the search will be long.)
The thing every other mother would do:
Love him and sing him a song.
Poem © 2016 and photo © 2011 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Blue Monday
More Twelve Days of Mary at Recuerda Mi Corazon