When I drive through this unfinished landscape of space and sky,
I am told that the wildflowers will bloom later upon the fingers of the saguaros when the monsoon rains come
Their arms reaching to the stars with the soft desert wind blowing past, like the soft whisper of a woman in your ear.
I see the gray green saguaros with their bodies like anchored legs looking like some form of a Martian forest,
Alien and yet beautiful.
In my own head I thought the universe was my own
For no other voice I heard aloud,
I was completely alone
All of the thoughts in my mind were only proud.
No friendly hand approached me
they were pushed away by force.
The last notes of Springsteen fade away on the FM Radio,
the Cadillac black as midnight coal pulls in front of a melancholy, light gray looking shack with paint peeling and windows as dirty as a rusty cage
the crack! and snap! of rounds go off over yonder beyond the hill
and my uncle with his dark blue t shirt and red Phillies cap lugs the immense black vault of a gun case toward the open door.