Author: Don Miller

drought
a cactus wren sips
from the garden hose

Flashpoint 572

In early May he assisted with logistics and media on one of the big forest fires burning in northern New Mexico. This was my son’s first battlefield

late innings in the stands gathering dust

folding prayers. . .
a thousand paper cranes
kindling
this flame
for peace

returning
to the vanishing point
in the blue hour
five lonely notes
of a mourning dove

razor sharp
with his divisiveness
wrapping
the border wall
in concertina wire

I am drawn
to the darkness
drifting through an arroyo
the distant call
of coyote

drought
the rain gauge
two-tenths dust