Gone.......

He gone. If only for a while, he gone.

There is only one early spring in the desert, when the sharp light dances in the rise and at set, when the air does wonders just by breathing it, and the colorful desert flowers pop in mass, and it doesn’t last long, so he gone.

Removing the rubber and leather from your feet to wear off the winter crust in the course desert sand, sand so clean and ancient, unlike any other sands that remain submissive to tides and lovers, the desert sands retain no secrets, and offer no excuses. He gone.

No tent will stand in these sands, and the only way to sleep is to fold your bag up in a tarp, like you fold a burrito, allowing the wind and the occasional scorpion to keep moving. Yet the voices remain. Voices that arise from within, unknown at first due to the easy avoidance of the daily life distractions, now resonate and speak little but the truth. He needs that. He gone.

And there should certainly be some dancing. The evening fire displaces the cold desert air and the blood can be venomous from the unsettling inner view, causing uncontrolled movement and gaiety. Desert demons and angels tug, he sips whiskey from the jug, laughing about the absurdity of it all. He gone.

He will be gone from 3/9 -3/18……but then again no one can be responsible on the morning following St. Patties Day, right?

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