South of the badlands & not far from the
coral-red dunes we came to sit amidst the redrock
where raven & quail are burnished
against unmoving air: smear
the red clay onto your face,
rub it deep into your pale skin
burning colorado on this cedar ledge under sun-dazed sky;
sit & become red, become clay..
let it seep slowly out of you,
the noise, the pain, the indifference-
sweat it out of your pores,
let it pour out in tears & in blood
as red & thick as this dust that now covers you,
grain by vermilion grain
ever settling, ever
Is there anything more comforting,
more familiar then,
than red sandstone,
ancient rock & sun?
This is my river place, western dreamscape
strewn with diamond sunlight
off Utah snow.