Desert Poems

Desert Camp on Tuesday I Think

                                    by Ian Robinson

The wind in this tree

Is singing me.

And I am up in flung clouds

Red blue and golden in the sunset

Carried down twisted creeks

Caught like debris in trees

Flooded, flooded deep below

The surface.



Desert Rain                   

                             by Ian Robinson

I’m from south.

The warm air tricked me, promised a balmy night.

The drips dropped out of nowhere,

Kept coming everywhere,

Then the drumming coming on in the dark

When you hear it you just know

The mud will stick, creeks will run,

bush will get drunk and close the roads,

and the birds will laugh for days.

Two nights two days two inches we had,

Muddied, grounded, discomfited, full.