Posts Tagged ‘Antoine’


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.


We fought a lot,
some people do.
You were famous
for your temper,
I’m infamous for mine.
Although we’d parted ways,
I still considered you a friend.

We shared a love of poetry.
A complicated, passionate man;
the stereotypical tortured artist.
Your poem, Nuits Glacees
touched me deeply.
I know you loved Saguaro,
perhaps simply because
I wrote it for you.

8 years dead,
I still think of you that way:
an untapped private reservoir,
surrounded by protective thorns;
letting no one else inside.