August on Highway 142

It is not the first time this stretch of road

has inspired me to take a pen in hand.

Here the sky is big and blue

and I am small.

Along the far horizon

gleaming white clouds gather steam

to power their daily march

across the wide valley.

The monsoon, a fickle diva,

swept in late this year

boasting an alabaster crown in the morning

and a cape of gray in the afternoon.

Where have you been, I wondered.

She tried to make amends

with lavish offerings of rain

and now the river flows gently,

a long beaded gown

glistening its way toward the distant sea.

Green covers the landscape.

Even the Piñon Hills

are draped in olive velvet.

It is nearly midday, and warm.

Random sunflowers nod in the heat.

A roadside patch of milkweed looks tired.

Its pink blooms have faded and

pregnant seed pods droop

from the stems, holding on

to their silvery treasures

just a little longer.

I turn off the main road

In search of wild horses.

The first distant black dots I see

turn out to be cattle.

A little further on I finally find horses.

I stop in the middle of the narrow dirt road,

pull out my binoculars

and watch for a while.

There are five of them standing together.

Suddenly one gallops off across the llano.

Another follows, and then the rest.

Somehow they remind me

of vultures riding thermals,

Spiraling up over the field behind my house.

I wish I could do that.

I put the car in gear

and drive on, slowly.

The dirt road has narrowed to a doubletrack trail.

I leave my car where it sits

and pick my way on foot

over volcanic terrain,

alert for snakes and prickly pears.

I am not wearing the right shoes for this

but I cannot resist.

Tucked among the jagged rocks

blue grama sends up seeds

on tiny flags, surrendering,

to what I am not sure.

A lizard runs across my path,

takes shelter behind a clump

of Indian ricegrass.

Twenty yards out a flat boulder

just the right size for me

perches near the edge of the shallow canyon

that cradles the river in green.

I check once more for snakes and sit,

My face turned to the sun.