The Ancient Modern

The Desert /  Joshua Alan Sturgill     

Who lives in the desert?  July
all year
engaged in a seasonless fight.
Summer each gutted afternoon,
Winter each accosting night. 

My dread of the desert begs why
go there?
Body parched, soul alight
on an Earth akin to the Moon,
cratered ravines, exposed heights.

Who goes to the desert? The pious
with fear
seek solitude in nature’s rites,
time-defiers, retreating through June.
They haven’t arrived
but might


All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2023 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

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

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s