Windswept
Desert sands, windswept
by decades persistence,
have engulfed me,
sculpting anew
the man I am now.
Beneath the visible
Milky Way, Western
Screech Owl has sung
her invitation song
into these wee hours,
until the first break
of dawn, when her
golden eyes close,
and the rising and falling
of the notes that comprise
her song, at last
go silent.
(c)Paul Goldman July 2, 2022
[Photo NSP/Patrick Myers]