Sleep in the Mojave Desert
by Sylvia Plath
Out here there are no hearthstones,
Hot grains, simply. It is dry, dry.
And the air dangerous. Noonday acts queerly
On the mind’s eye, erecting a line
Of poplars in the middle distance, the only
Object beside the mad, straight road
One can remember men and houses by.
A cool wind should inhabit those leaves
And a dew collect on them, dearer than money,
In the blue hour before sunup.
Yet they recede, untouchable as tomorrow,
Or those glittery fictions of spilt water
That glide ahead of the very thirsty.
I think of the lizards airing their tongues
In the crevice of an extremely small shadow
And the toad guarding his heart’s droplet.
The desert is white as a blind man’s eye,
Comfortless as salt. Snake and bird
Doze behind the old masks of fury.
We swelter like firedogs in the wind.
The sun puts its cinder out. Where we lie
The heat-cracked crickets congregate
In their black armorplate and cry.
The day-moon lights up like a sorry mother,
And the crickets come creeping into our hair
To fiddle the short night away.
"Mojave Wind"
By Mike Ziem
From outta' the west
Like the Devil's breath
It races across the land.
With the fury of Cane
And not to be tamed,
'Cept by God's own mighty hand.
So it shouldn't seem strange
That the *Tehachapi range
Of mountains stood not a chance.
It would pick up the sand
In the palm of it's hand
As across the desert floor it danced.
An incantation of devastation
Heralds the wicked breeze.
Taking command of the birds and land,
Sagebrush, and Joshua trees.
It can be cold as ice or hot as hell,
Whichever it endorsed.
The decision, all it's own,
Ruthlessly enforced.
Its dustdevil's prancing and
Mischievously dancing
Like phantoms prowling the Earth.
Transforming the soil
Into whirlwind coils,
Tornadoes of debris and dirt.
But a time comes when
The mighty zephyr moves on
With the haste which it came.
Without a trace it was here.
Just a mem'ry remain.
And a deceptive calm
Settles across the sand,
And the gale freely relinquishes
It's reign of command
But make no mistakes,
It'll be back again.
It's a part of this place...
The mighty Mojave Wind.
* The Tehachapi mountain range is between Edwards AFB
and the town of Mojave. It serves as a "bottle neck"
which greatly increases the speed of the wind.
Thanks for shareing the link. Happy to see you are having adventures! I'm well, and very much enjoying my work.
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