One skull knocks against
the door frame and both dogs
are on their feet, braced through
arroyos of rocks climbing up
tires, those aggressive new tires.
Water bags leap and
a cairn creeps past, a trail
spotted like footprints by hooves
of dry cattle crosses.
Ocotillo reach right in so
one dog snaps.
Creosote arms swing trying to
reach right in. One dog snaps
and my cigarette swerves.
A hawk spins, black
tips on blue sky like
periods allowed to
soar across the page,
like following this track
nowhere.
Sand fills horizon lines with gold.
orphan poems 