In Albuquerque

d’Verse Poetics: Sentiments of the Southwest
Mish would like us to join her in the Southwest


dry winds blow tumble weeds
across hot pavement chasing
each other like children
sunsets finger paint the mountains
a watermelon pink
spring rains turn dull sandy fields
into meadows laughing in flowers
and in the night the howl of
coyotes stirs my soul