Bleached Bones

Its former life faded

broken and lifeless.

Why here? Why now?

What purpose do you serve?

Half covered by sand

reaching up to the light,

scarcely noticed, 
yet, brilliantly white.

The cold breath of winter 

enters stone and cleaves it.

Desert pavement hard and cracked

chokes plants struggling to stand.

Scattered cans and a pail

lie alone and rusting,

bottles litter the ground,

relics of former beauty.

  A broken chair, spare tire, 
a crocheted doll,

boxes tucked in corners

holding on against the forces of time.

At some distance lies

an abandoned home.

Its' skeleton clings to the sky

cracked and deteriorated.

Laughter no longer rings

across the yard-

empty, not safe, scattered.

What has stolen your vitality?

Harsh realities of the desert

break, tear and weather-

leaving pain and loneliness

searing in the shifting sand.

At first glance 

the wide open spaces frighten,

overwhelm, distract and leave one 

their own morbid thoughts.

Yet, deep down at the roots

spring life from emptiness,

blades of tender grass

shoot up, sheltered by bone.

  A pile of bee crates shelter cottontails,

protect mice, crickets

and delicate blooms from wind

and gather warmth from morning sun.

Not a place forgotten,

a setting for fear and abandon-

digging deep into open soil

the mind, heart, and soul

grow strong in solitude.