A River Bends Beneath:
Cliff Dwellers
Canyon, Unsplash.com
Harsh days stretch out like winds that scour a flat
Terrain, a bald plateau that knows relief
From endless sameness only by a grief
Which opens like so many canyons, bat-
Infested wounds that break the surface, gape
And fall, unmatched by any hope of hills
Or mountain rises. Arid desert kills
Both love and its mirages. No escape
Awaits the wanderer stumbling through this maze
In which each sustenance of soul boasts vile,
Complacent thorns or spines, and sink holes smile
(With poisoned calm) like eyes with fevered glaze.
But cities can be built in deep ravines
Where passion cuts a stream bed through these scenes.