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Desert Moon
by Greg Gregory

The owls
under the desert moon
steal your soul.

Yesterdays wash up
into their night sky amazed
at how close they remembered
it was to this earth, this desert.

There are so many nows.
Each in step, they ebb with the past.
The vistas flow forward
under frozen constellations

The pairing of yesterday and today
finally comes home.
We lose the ground
that we have not yet discovered.

The unturned stone becomes
a gift.


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