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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact

"Desert Meditation" by Joe DiMino

Like the North
During winter
Summer in the desert
Things die off
Or go underground;

But, dissimilar to Yukon,
Here, water is the real gold—
And the over burden claims
Theaters of scorching victories
And parching defeats

I walk a dry basin…
Careful not to disturb
The many bones—

One need not see a cross
For respect,
And need no more than sense
A cat’s hungry eyes to know
Another is closely watching
As is the vulture
From his lofty view
Who can’t lose either way—

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