DESERT SOLITAIRE
The blue-speckled forest ranger
will tell you what to watch out
for : shards of glass, the broken
bottles in the streambed, the wish
necklaces people throw from the
cliff. A few dogs trot around, to
snoop and sniff, like dogs do.
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It seems to be another one of those
windswept days; in from the west,
air encircling air, eddies like water
but the sort you can't see. Those
forest rangers now, they all have
new Explorers, with large lettering
on the side, and the logo, of whatever
it is they fully call themselves. I
hope they call themselves, because
no one else is going to call them.
I'd rather read Desert Solitaire.
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