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Out of my Hands
by Alison McKenzieSometimes the neighborhood dogs
Sound demonic against
A thunderstruck Arizona storm.
Their crazed yowls crank up the night,
Sending the skittish racoons
Racing into the sand and stone
Where I'm used to lawns,
Green and thick and spongy
Under my hungry, dancing toes.
My soul acclimates itself
To these outside ovens
And the succulent wilderness
That thrives in this sauna
I crisp.
It's out of my hands.
My path has led me firmly here,
Deposited me in this double-destiny story,
The pages turning
Before I can picture the plot.
I fly blind, solo,
Toward a rocky tomorrow,
Remember to drink,
Remember to laugh,
Remember to let the Mother
Take my tears,
Turn them to diamonds in the sun.
Time and pressure -
The water changes everything.
Time and pressure -
The water wears it all away.
04/19/2014 Posted on 04/19/2014
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 04/19/14 at 01:10 PM *stellar* |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 04/19/14 at 04:22 PM You've enumerated all the reasons
I couldn't live in the great broiling southwest on a bet, Alison..as well as touching all those emotional chords which makes this offering stand out on its own. The imagery in that first verse is amazingly fine! |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 04/19/14 at 10:04 PM The Southwest is not for every one. The desert is not for everyone and full sun day after day can tear at ones eyes especially with the wind. I but you have made it appear livable maybe even lovable. Nice write. |
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