Our garden shrinks in the shadow

of  the mesa. Pine rust and wilted roses. A south wind

stirs as leaves scratch the hour

in a  hushed frenzy.  The angel in her stone

body feels it — wanting to shake loose

her long hair and lift her large wings. The sun’s breath


shimmers with heat

and  my shoulder blades ache

sensing  the entry of flight. Yet the desert knows

as well as the marble woman

who invoked this urge to flee —  that here

there is little rain and only acres

of  no where  to fly.




    • Hi Craig

      So glad you liked this one! I really appreciate your input and the time you have taken to read and contemplate this poem!

      My best,


  1. The whole poem is good, but the closing lines are especially striking. They bring home the main features of a desert – there’s so much of it and there’s so little in it.


    • Hi Michael

      Thanks for reading and commenting on this piece! I sincerely appreciate it and really like your conclusion about the desert those last two lines. Indeed, desert is a vast place but also diminished in some of its fertile and climatic conditions. Abit like the state of restlessness, there is a desire to go somewhere but often there is no where to go and we become stuck in place, nervously trying to figure out how to cope with our nerves and anxiety.

      again thank you,


  2. “there is little rain and only acres

    of no where to fly.”


    You have done it again. You show us the scene until
    we become one with it and then you finish with an
    unforgettable ending that has me seeing the denizens
    of autumn up close and in person. It is a restless season.
    The Canada geese stay here year round now. I used to
    think it was because we fed them too well but now I think
    they realize “there is little rain and only acres/ of no where to fly”.
    Your empathy shines through these lines. I love the concept
    of the stone angel. I love everything about this poem!




    • Thanks so much Sarah!

      I adore your comment and perspective here about Autumn and its sense of restlessness. I think those geese know or feel the climate changing, warming and feel they must stay, maybe afraid of what is not out there. And that stone angel is really in our back yard. I felt so much restlessness this summer trying to get my real ID and changing over my driver’s license from New York To California. They wanted so many documents from birth certificate to name change as proven on my marriage certificate. I had to reapply to New York state for official copies of both N.Y.’ city;s bureaucracy took over two months to comply, I finally expedited matters by applying to my local home town for both documents and they got them here in Southern Cal within a week. Incredible. But the waiting was so frustrating and that made me very anxcious and restless. Add to that a very dry and rain-less Summer. It’s funny how the landscape outside mirrors the one within our soul and mind. Anyway, this poem was the result. I am so glad you can relate.

      My Best to you and yours,
      Take care

      Liked by 1 person

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