Amanda Rabaduex

This is a desert scene. Imagine the cactus fever green hunger strewn across sands but we are driving 80 so Sonoran streams out the window. Morning moon shining white atop blue. Let’s call it cerulean. Imagine the eagles echo over fricative land. This is no Blood Meridian, this is a road trip pastoral where the

-after Kelli Russell Agodon in early morning’s quiet  rays murmur through the window warm lines on my thighs  my skin so in love with heat I’d kiss the sun if I could  how can we hold what we can’t grasp? at night in the valley  winter’s silence is shunned shadows rustle last year’s leaves  an