I've given up trying to understand

how loose molecules

out in a desert

twitching beneath and between grains of sand

can pull on this soul

as if I've always been an orphan

to the place where I am.


I wake up in the dawn light

drink coffee

wash off my hide

put on my boots

a coat of armor

a mask

yet another time.


But at the end of day, 

it's an unseen set of wings that carry me

over rivers

wide stretches of prairie

until I reach a magenta sky

where I breathe in a breath like a newborn

and exhale the words: 

I'm home.

(c) 2017 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

for more info on Steve Roach and Roger King's sonic interpretations of the desert Southwest, visit the Bandcamp page for Dust to Dust