My Desert

My Desert

 

My home is arid.

Dry and barren,

Hardly any water,

Droughts occur often.

 

The Cacti pricks and pokes

But I do not mind

 

The crickets chirp their sweet song of summer,

While I slowly go mad,

I have heard their song a thousand times more than necessary.

 

The breeze

Un- befitting to freeze.

Its warm breath will not cool you off,

But it might make you scoff

 

The winter is spring,

The spring is summer,

And fall is summer,

And summer is hot.

 

When I walk outside,

I see nothing but nothing,

Perhaps I see a cactus or two?

A tumbleweed?

Some sand? Or dirt?

 

But I do not care.

The desert is my home.

Its plainness is comforting to me,

Not overwhelming like the mountains

Or trees

 

My desert home has wide open lands,

With clear skies above,

Inspiring me to sing about my home,

With nothing but love

 

The lizards and snakes and crickets and bugs,

Do not frighten me.

For how can I be frightened when there are

Butterflies and birds and coyotes and wise armadillos?

 

 

 

And as I lie down on my pillow,

Under the wide open sky,

Shining bright with twinkling stars,

I know that I am home.

I know that there is no where else I would rather be

My home is the desert,

Where I can be free,

Where I can be free to be me.

Author's Note

This is my first published poem. I figured I might as well put it up here. =]