(Watercolour by David Chorlton)
I
One minute he’s
the desert’s angry soul
risen from dry earth, the next
a comic sent by drought
to make us laugh at our misfortune.
II
He never keeps appointments.
Each encounter comes
as a surprise, a sudden dash
from behind a bush
or Earth blinking back
at the sun.
III
He’s three parts shadow, one
clear light. And the clockwork ticking
in his heart
never slows to the pace
a lizard could outrun.
IV
A compass needle escaped
and pointed all directions
at one time. It grew a tail, the bones
began to dance inside
its skin. All it took
was feathers to complete
creation’s plan.
V
He’s fast on the move and faster
when he’s still. There’s a coil
in his way with a rattle. He
circles and stands
back to give himself room
for a strike, when
he snaps the snake like a whip.
VI
There and yet
not. The ground flashes. The air
swallows
the moment as though
time were not for birds.
VII
In a ditch back of the drug store
nature takes a stand
against the city.
The tail
is raised among the weeds
to signal
no surrender.
