Rock face is rounded in gentle furrows,
thighs of old women folded into each other,
wading in cold water.
A line curves, becomes an iguana,
scratches itself and yawns, reptile cat,
turns to stone again.
Yellow flowers are furled
safe below cactus spines,
birds I do not know glisten black,
whistle and chuckle, tell me
I’m far from home.
Waves recreate themselves,
stones accept their elemental sculpting,
clarity of salt and wind.
I’ve come here to collect myself,
exotic shell held up to my own ear,
hoping for something more than distance.
