by Melisande Luna

Created on: May 20, 2007

To A Fault

On the run, off the road
thirty-five miles due south of Hell

among stony outcrops
keeping company with hawks

The echo of a broken record
-begs

questions to please-God-stop
I can't love anything

but these thirsty mazes
where faces lie exposed

whispering history over playas
spinning Badwater legends with windy sighs

I stroll across the Devil's bed
left slept-in and rumpled, I'm

-h o p p i n g

over rills and washes
where jasper clasts gather

My boot-heels snap mesquite
sticks like hollow bones popping

Armed with lodestone and lead
I walk the fault

-ringing my rock hammer
off bedrock knobs

I chase the ancient
thorough time. Hunting

orogeny, my love
Obsession: a question

for the mountain

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