The wash after the storm


Runnels, ruts, and caves

Where the bubbly brown

Instant river ran

The smell of mud and death

A thousand corpses 

Washing to lower ground

Butterflies, grasshoppers, wasps

Bees, horse flies, spiders

Stones rearranged in new patterns

Like dead butterflies in the wind

Stones large and stable landmarks


Beneath the sand or

Carried to a new place

Stones collision-cracked 

By other stones

A thousand years of colliding stones

Will make a bed of sand

Before a force so powerful

A sealed tomb lies 

Vulnerable as a desert wash.