taliesin, west

where the ocotillos rise

and the desert breeze

winds around the branches,

 

where the honey-essenced mesquites

perfume the sand

licked up

in the sonoran drift,

 

i sway here, too—

waiting for you,

twisting just a half smile

until you come,

 

your hair smelling like pine,

and mine

like shadows

coming out into the sun

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

photo (me) © 2025 ian wagner