Desert Pastoral

driving through the Arizona desert

with my sister at the helm

I am in familiar territory

down from the cold North

to the mild winter of a dry, cactus-filled pasture

it is home, in a way

the cows graze this desert pasture

uncaring for those who watch them

those wishing they were a simple farmer

up at dawn to till the earth — whatever’s left of it —

or even a cow, uncaring for humanity

even in the sweet release of slaughter

I like watching them graze

it means the cactus desert has more to it

than just scrub and dry riverbeds

memory is created here

I will not forget this desert pasture

even as my sister sped by

unestablished memory

we pass all the ways they try to save the earth

the farmers who still love that stretch of scrub

I am awed by the vastness that are their measures

who could not want this?

I ask knowing the answer

They don’t want the cactus-pasture

their thumbs rub a different shade of green

home doesn’t change on the surface

each time is a comforting return

knowing I’ll see desert-green pastures

yet as unchanging as myself

both are happy lies trapped in idle memory

~~~~~~~

©Abigail Siegel, 2019