A mirage
A nature poem

Whatever it is that feeds this sagging, moaning mountain, sits eagerly on it’s knees, looking up to me Cradling a heap of desert sand just so. In this hypnotic heat, a stream — Filled to the brim, where fish feverishly leap out and sunken beaks of wren swoop down and catch fish by their fins, swallowing them whole, and in this miserable heat, just underneath the shade of a dead saguaro, a flower is blooming.
