Posted: July 15, 2010 in Flower Series, My Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,


The cactus blossoms
for no one but itself;
still, some small lives
savor the nectar of its flower.

Spines protect soft meat:
a secret oasis in this desert.
But for them, predators
might devour
the rich green land within.

The solitary cactus
raises arms in supplication
to a sky cold with disinterest.

In summer, the blank eye of the sun
withers everything,
But the cactus,
holding its own reserve of life;
clasping it in with thick, scarred skin,
is not scorched or moved
and stands unscathed
in the fiery blast,
arms raised in mock surrender.

A hawk lands carefully,
the cool green skin on its toes.
It senses the reservoir beneath its feet –
Unseen but as apparent as
a rushing river:
lush and verdant yet,
disquietingly unavailable.

  1. heather says:

    Beautiful as always. Well done. “a sky cold with disinterest.” What a great line!

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