THE DESERT
So many times
I’ve felt what I thought was love.
I wandered through
a hot, scorching desert
only an occasional breeze of happiness,
more often sandstorms and sunblisters.
Until came you,
and somehow I knew.
The sands no longer
swept through my hair
and stung my face,
the desert of love became a happy place,
with soft, rolling hills,
a happy smiling sun,
a bright blue sky,
and you,
and I.
And the winds whispered,
“He is the one.”
Written Jan. 24, 1982
I was 17 when I wrote this, experimenting with non-rhyming poems. I had never been to the desert so this was a challenge to write.