Palm Desert

Richard Avedon

Richard Avedon

 

You’re flesh and bones
and dusty roads
and small pebbles
in your steel toe work boots and
a desert prickly pear.

You’re where rough hands meet warmth
and callouses mean love.

You’re a worn old Buick with dirt caked tires and
your voice is warm whiskey with hints of sarsaparilla.

You’re Dusty Springfield spooky with fists always knuckled to your belt.

I want to tell you no but the desert wind has me under its spell and you are freedom.

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