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Sunday, August 25, 2013


Along I-15, eastbound, dust fills the air,
clouds the color of ground, a brown rain.

Dry riverbeds cut through the dull desert,
snaking under the dusty highway.

Pavement thrums under us as the mountains
stand distant and aloof in their reptilian

rocky exteriors. The washes and channels
are dry. Between us, however, things flow:

No chattering runoffs, no murmuring springs,
just silence—just now--this deepening water
of siblings growing ever more at ease.

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