SOMETIMES LUCKY
…a gusher of poems
that poured out of the house
on Highland Street
and watered the town
-Wilma Elizabeth McDaniel
(“The Gusher, 5-12-89,” A PRINCE ALBERT WIND)
What of science soothes the souls
that haunt the draws and ridges
for a song, for the rhythmic chant
of wind and rain - the storm
that softens their way of going
through time? How they long
to suggest sounds that open clouds
to natural grace, to resonate
with being born once more.
A contrail's white streak east
at dawn dissolves in minutes
over Nevada's great timeless
underwater basin risen
to an endless sea of sage afoot
that can climb into your mind,
read thoughts and forever wait for
passing mortals – sometimes lucky
to hitch a ride on a poem.