A Monster So Unkind

The oldest wind of the Sonoran Desert 

is also the youngest; stealthy, from newborn 

to maturity in minutes, filling the sky sandy gray.

We watch it roar into our towns and cities, 

a wall of dust infiltrating every opening 

and crack around doors and windows.

Watch what it grabs and what it doesn’t;

a formless goliath that shoves us around, 

yanks our clothing; ferocious and taloned,

it rips off branches and roofs.

Seemingly vengeful, it’s just wind and dirt,

nature so simple, yet so inescapable 

is its grip on catastrophe.

From: Small Places, Big Places, Everywhere

Unpub. MS p. 5

What The Wind Brings

Summer Childhood 1960s 

From the Willcox Playa,

raking off the crackled surface,

a grumbling, dust-driven monster.

From a short distance, a peculiar spitefulness— 

the wild scream of thick wind and dirt churns up

and attempts to bury Willcox before it rains,

making for some anxious afternoons, 

relieved by friends, cookies and milk,

and an ongoing game of Monopoly.

From: Short Poems On How We Ramble:

Poems in 75 Words or Less

Unpub. MS p. 19