A bird followed me into the desert
An old pair of shoes
A worn out sole
Crumpled leather
Collected heather
A walk in the desert
Like on the dark side of the moon.
Hear the bassoon tune of the desert
Why is that bird following me
from sunrise near the two finger rock
creosote circles ambush the century plant
it dries, it dies, it’s song is blown with the wind
shivering wings and blinding eyes never forget.
I will never forget
The reflected light from the frayed yucca
Blue , red yellow crawl over sun shattered stone
The echo of color within the dimming time of recollection
Stop, the light, stop time, stop the enveloping silence
Step by step forward through the morning memory haze
Never forget the flitting from perch to perch
Always just beyond reach or speech but we can hear.
Further, further on, walk on , watch out, further, search.
Step upon step the crust of sand and rock is thinner
our vision clearer our foot prints mark the path
through blades of broken cactus.
The sun is high.
The harmony is reverberating
The bird leads and follows
tracing a dance of recollection
of the ancient desert sea
never forget your walk with me
Robert W. Carroll
