Heading into the desert sun,I tail an enthusiastic storm.Tires zing on sizzling pavement,slash through puddleson the rain-darkened highway,
Like a guardian flanking the roadto El Paso, a muscular mountainheaves up, sable master of the horizon,his head silvered by rayed spotlightsstreaming through cracked charcoal cloudslike lake water breaching a dam.
I stop to relish the sudden chill,feel retreating thunder rumblingmy bones, hear breezes sliding overdamp sand, greedy for its moisture.
I sniff the air like an elegant ladyshopping for perfume, as pungentdesert sage, rain-released, driftslike piñon smoke, like incense, sendsshivers drug-like through my skin.
I gulp the rare essence, reluctant to leave,store expansive breaths in my lungslike treasure. The fragrant air scolds,reminds me gently I’ve been gonetoo long—far too long.
Cade Huie is a member of several poetry organizations, including the…