Alder Geshem


Driving high desert in the dark
          stars like grains of sand           
          snowy ranges like snow goose wings
          I pulled over in a dream and bought a soda from ghosts at an abandoned hamburger stand,
but at first light there was nothing in the cup, in my mouth, but dust

Spare green brush in the heat
          unbroken to the mountain rim
          new dust on the dash
          all windows down and radio and ac dead, shouting every song I remember into the teeth of
the wind

Old cottonwoods at evening
         between their cast down shoulders
         secret in the long grass
         a sky mirror
         cold gravel welling
         we drink on our bellies, the dog and I and

everything's moving
        Clouds like poems gather on peaks
        expand and disappear
        cottonwood leaves reshuffle
         junipers are breathing
         and the flies above us
         are doing the best they can