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