Over the Grand Canyon
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Are you wondering above the smog
over the canyon
the bright sky that hugs
low humid afternoons
about the sound of a gunshot
wound tumbling, echoing off
ancient carvings, rocks that fall.
The coveted beauty turned
a shoulder to our societies’
ignored warning
the warmest summer on record
for America cried
the glistening drops of honeysuckle
blooming a month too early.
A shadow glow of misty morning dew
rising foot in front of foot step wide
paths with wind sounds river melodic
like living next to an ocean, but here
in the desert the shifting of low wheat tassels
blow together, wind making an offering
to the hot hot sun.