Such fierce desert winds.
Dust devils spinning.
The mountains, peaks ten thousand feet
above the desert floor,
vanish in the dusty clouds.
Yellow ochre granules, desert spit
in frenetic dance, rise like mini-tornadoes,
slam into Santa Rita’s rocky face.
Desert powder settles on
the bristling Ponderosa pines.
Broad billed hummingbirds, in defense,
fluff to twice their size
and burrow their faces in their feathers.
Prickly pears cast faint shadows in the arroyo
through cloud filtered sunlight.
And pollen drops, like yellow rain.
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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She explores the desert with her camera, and occasionally is inspired to add poetry.
The dust storm sounds so dramatic, almost scary I would imagine, if you hadn’t experienced one before.
Not too scary, Joanne, but they sure can be unpleasant!
What a wonderful description! You really understand!
I understand, but I don;t like to be caught in the dust…LOL.