LuminescentI walk with women, a high desert
path along the gorge, through
sweetgrass, threadgrass,
peppergrass and blue gramma,
four miles through chamisa and sage.
We sit on the rim in silence,
dangle our legs from a rock ledge
above the winding river.
Silence settles over the land.
The sun slips behind us
like a lover out the back door,
leaves the canyon flushed rose.
Evening tucks its lavender and indigo
secrets into the land, and we hurry along
the desert track. Birds
flutter in the scrub, settling
in for the night. Later,
the moon finds us laughing,
feasting on bread and cheese,
apples, cashews and olives,
chocolate and wine by the flicker of candlelight.
A white half moon, nestled
in the crook of Scorpio’s tail,
scatters its light on the river
where we linger,
hold our cups out for more, captive
in the clear night of a thousand stars.
- Terry Song
