Small Hours
June 17, 2025
Photo © copyright by Nathan Larson.
Photo © copyright by Nathan Larson.
Small Hours
We do not speak of the rift
between ridge and rain,
but I feel it,
dust settling in my throat.
Your breath fogs the window.
My mind stays with the evergreens.
We sit side by side,
in observant isolation,
never slipping.
Saguaros bloom only at night,
moths with powder wings,
blossoms folding open.
I do not need your rainwater
to keep growing.
If you are still here
when the coyotes quiet,
we will call it
trying.
-nl
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