engine speaks in tongues at times
pulls into the soul
stops dusty clotted roads
the time to move was now
like a parade
on protest days
green mile flowers
line the way
sun kisses face alone
under hood hoses roar
radio delivers telegrams
from simpler times
and long ago
trails like waiting mothers
daughter shacks lined down
their shack feet shoed with poppies
ruby slippers anti-Hollywood style
ghost maidens sell red berries
for crows atop the Joshua trees
for me to feed
can’t stand tall
only in awe
dream catch spider web
crystals for tiny arachnid queens
their king hides under the rocks
wind fingers my aging hair
cowlicks everywhere
magnetism from Her core
presses on my mouth
and leaves a score
locked in me
are secrets stored
warriors express on Her behalf
not because they deem Her less
but because She is too sacred
for this place where i come from
