David W. Parsley Posted May 30, 2015 Share Posted May 30, 2015 As One From the Snowfields Route to Navajo Mountain, skitter of tumbleweed - land and sky merge like the face of Black God, shadowy armscanted to a common side.Sounds of the ceremonyseal over distance threading pop and hissof the engine withstars ascending paths the yeh-bi-chai took,footfalls mute litany along the galaxy’s ledges.Small beneath the long ruinof peaksthe road finds the horizon’s shadow and follows.Beneath those bodiesa man could walkto the cliffs’ forgetful darkness, that omnipotent mask.A car goes by, headlightssoft probes on the highway.Exhaust spreads brief invisible fire in its wake.Killdeer’s voice starts from sleep at arroyo’s edgeand finds me from far away –I am here! Here! published 2019 PMO Editor's Picks© 2015 David W. ParsleyParsley Poetry Collection 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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