Share 'The Sunday Poem: Keith Wilson . . .The Voices of My Desert'
The Voices of My Desert
Beginning this new trail, with the resonance
of shifting earth about me, I hear calls
distancing the crow voices of my childhood,
the wolf cry of my middle age. The sun
is an ancient symbol above me and God knows
what the mountains, spirit blue on the horizon
mean. Silence stands within me as without
desert stirs to its own subtle communication.
There is time, always,…
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