Thirst

hand holding a drink, detail

I promise him everything—rivers, falls,
Lake Saguaro—but he sniffs and turns away.

Weeping and pleading, I follow him
across the mesa.  I fling my arms
around his hollow neck and he becomes a snarl
of tumbleweed.

His teeth are salt and heat has shrunk his eyes.
All he needs, I can give, and still
he hurtles into the yellow wind.

 — from Secret Formulas & Techniques of the Masters

Image: Detail from a painting
@ Louise Craven Hourrigan

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