Poems by Steven Federle
Monday, April 4, 2016
Convergence
restricted by this hard,
grey road
I speed past green scrub,
tenuous roots contending
with hot, graveled earth
for cool, deep waters.
Above the bleak plain I see,
steeply rising in folding
rock and rolling ridge,
shadowed mountains converge
into liquid
desert sky.
(25 Aug 2010)
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