Found

Wish you were here

I write that you might see the torturous blue sky
laden with clouds that lament yet evaporate,
gold dust hills dotted with scrub and pinones,
black craggy mountains robed in distant blue shadows.

I refine these desert pigments, make ink
and catch moments, gestures, landscapes with verbose lariats
that you might smile and stagger, breathing enchantment,
when the heavens burst forth with a sunset like spilled wines.

--Tia Blassingame