Desert Song

Gene Goldfarb 

Kim Matthews Wheaton

         Cool Morning

Desert Song

                        Oh mama, oh land, 

                        oh quiet sky


                        here where I lie 

                        curious rabbits gather

                        to inspect me on timid approach

                        their noses pulsing

                        eyes fresh, this humility matches

                        my lengthened limbs

                        on the valley floor

                        one comes, sniffs, retreats to kin

                        waiting yards away, confers

                        they move off happily indifferent,

                        a vulture is pacing nearby

                        staring sideways expectantly

                        till a coyote appreciates me

                        and the bird finds a cliff

                        but the coyote scrambles for a rat

                        pray for me tonight, dear soul

                        for a kinder moon

                        as I become all these things


                        oh mama, oh land

                        oh quiet, quiet sky.

Gene Goldfarb lives on Long Island in New York, loves writing, and sometimes succeeds at it. His poems have appeared in the very small press, among these being Cliterature, Empty Sink, Lalitamba, Stoneboat, SLANT, Thin Air, Black Fox Literary Magazine and Heavy Feather Review. His blogs have also appeared in Black Fox, and a short story of his recently debuted in Bull & Cross.​