Drift

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

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.