tom taylor - western lurch

western lurch

beneath arched sky-blue skies, heated
noons parch air trodden foot by foot at
no destination but arrival and return to
stories older than the dust itself hearing

voices in the evening song from blood of
sacrificed lives on the desert mountains a
continent away from denial and fortitude
an unrelenting horde packing mules again

the planet arrived at this focal loom throng
land grabbed over their dead bodies Indian
burial mounds the conestoga mobs declare
the rest is no one’s resting here at last home