The canyon does not need my help: seasons cycle, the years tally, the moon, never once thinking of me, swells and recedes, full to sliver, and a few times every year it enters the creek through a cleft in the mesa wall and an alley of dark juniper. Locusts blossom, drag their branches earthward; Orion kneels on the mesa top, then flies off into the cloudy darkness over Redondo Peak. Enchanted, I watch as time slides by like sand in the breeze.
Benjamin Green is the author of eleven books including The Sound of Fish Dreaming. At the age of sixty-six he hopes his new work articulates a mature vision of the world and does so with some integrity. He resides in New Mexico.
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