Mark Tulin

Cowboy’s Mirage

My horse died,
but I keep walking
When will it rain?
I ask the Arizona sky

I pass the bone dry rivers,
abandoned crops,
and dying cacti
that barely stand

I’m the only one left,
while others go in panic,
abandoning their homes,
ranches and cattle,
and probably their brides

As I keep walking,
the mirage is ahead of me,
the pool of glistening water
invites me to strip naked,
as I cleanse myself
of all the desert dust.

3 thoughts on “Mark Tulin

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s