Memory of Thirst

I was a winter desert devoid of warmth or a droplet

Of succor, when a fair fair-minded friend appeared, serving me

Up on the edge of a morning mountain, where a warming brew

Waited, steaming, wanting to kiss the chap away from my lips.

An undesignated time had passed when a path opened

That would allow us to meander our way down to progress.

Upon the thin strand where our feet found their footing fell also

A shadow.

The oncoming spring brings clouds and bright rain and smiling green

Spider-legged patches of impermanence dotted and webbing

Across the shifting floor of the desert. We came like the spring

Approached by descent, the pathway of a journey a constant

Halfway in the moment when the shadow fell upon the earth.

Spring cloud’s gray and piercing sun’s ray both fall against the figures

Of once-green desert verdure and the shadows they cast as we

Cross and pass.

Summer will be soon and after the harvest when desert cools

Once again. Then, that shadow stretch will be far behind us

Other tasks will demand our attention, which gladly we’ll give

As gray spring clouds did, their offering sowing, sprinkling promise.

What fear I felt when I was in a drought the shadow jumped out

To alert me. But your whisper beside kept me in my stride and gravity

Still pulls me forward. Despite memory and want of water

I am slaked.