What
classifies a desert is its sum of rainfall. Some years even deserts have a
drought. The sun drops, unrelieved. Love is hard to satisfy when tears aren’t
lived.
What
classifies a desert is its sum of rainfall. Some years even deserts have a
drought. The sun drops, unrelieved. Love is hard to satisfy when tears aren’t
lived.
What classifies a desert is its type of soil. Sand’s a quirk of irritation, ancient winds, their actions on a mountain. Blanketed, the seeds are husked, but patient.
What classifies a desert is the kind of vegetation it supports, the growth conditions coax. Would that my desert mind could stay so fully focused on the now
its works would blossom in the present. Let Love manage life. Let Love be the desert.
Angier Brock has retired to Yorktown, VA, where she is writing, gardening, and discerning her next steps.