Far from the tar roads, vacant arroyos
Anticipate the rain. The dust and sun
Comingle, dressing down the sand; because
The weather service warned us, we outrun
The rainclouds, keeping mountains dikes between
Us. Underneath the storm, the drained Chihuahua
Digresses, begging cairn-fired pitchers: you
Can help me, douse my naked bones with agua
From blue-stained clay, reserve your heat for unspent
Milleniums. We'll take the desert one
Vaquero at a time, and fetch the sun-sent
Future from fruiting plants. I travel on
The tar roads doing 85, and speed
Past gypsum, only taking what I need.
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