Wafting the scent of ripe melons
the Saguaro blooms white –
only one at a time,
only under the stars.
A nectar cup filled in the night air.
Blossoms like uplifted faces
scan the midnight sky,
beckon to be shared,
find a willing partner,
continue the journey of life.
Leaf-like delicate veins,
limbs outstretched,
a parachute for the body
finds the flowers that call
Here I am, sup in me.
Thirsty from flight,
burrowing deep,
tongue stretches out –
its name like a curse,
“Lesser Long Nosed Bat,”
takes sustenance,
pays it forward,
fur pollen coated
drops sacred gems
on the desert floor.
Saguaro will survive.
By Charlene Moskal
Charlene Moskal is a Teaching Artist with The Alzheimer’s Poetry Project under the auspices of the Poetry Promise Organization of Las Vegas, Nevada. She is published in numerous anthologies, magazines, and e-zines. Her second chapbook, “One Bare Foot” is published by Zeitgeist Press.