Glass marbles in

pants pockets and

a forever

train ride rumbling

toward a mountain
 

shaped like a heart

keeping close watch

over barracks

coated in grit,

dust, desert sky
 

friends spin glass in

powdery dirt

beneath towers

beside gardens,

blocks, and school yards
 

where brown boys crawl

beneath barbed wire

and crack cold, dark

watermelons

across their knees
 

and the hearts seem

even sweeter

because for a

few moments they

are free.
 

The wind tonight

presses us all

away from the

ocean, in-land

toward the past

away from the

edge to where the

air is dry, the

sky is high and

mountains stretch to

the stars.
 

The wind tonight

pushes into

dusty canyons

presses dirt in

cracks, and frees fronds

from trunks with an

urgency that

has us all so

unsettled

after all of

these years.