coming up on month 10 of living and working in Moab, i have been invited by my self to soak my self in the pink dusk of this new past.
while the dry heat embraces my whole being and invites me to relax,
while the desert air carries sagebrush and shimmers through cottonwood leaves,
i glance at the Juniper's shaggy bark and am reminded of life and death in the same cup;
the crinkles in the people i love's faces,
the star studded, inky blue sky,
a place that all of us have looked up to, forever.
while the warm rocks hold every feeling i could ever have,
a wildflower bursts from the cracked earth,
beautiful even after the sun has drained every drop of color
from her delicate frame.