A desert poem

Here is a poem for summer, I have never published. It has been buried in a file cabinet for years. The handwritten date at the bottom of the typed page is 11-11-1987; this is when I still lived in California.

The Desert Dance

Around and around we spin in the sand.

Single and double headlights flash

preceding our intersecting paths, as if they were flashlight beams crossing in the dark.

We leap the hills, our tires bouncing as we land.

We scream and yell as if we are children riding roller coasters.

Some nights, the desert is like the endless Sahara. The sand and dust is thick in the air, and we wake up with grit in our teeth.

Other nights, after rain, the desert is damp and still as if it was the surface of the moon. The world exists only as far out as the headlights shine.

The motors rev and hum much like the growls of wild animals. The noises terrify the desert creatures, which do not understand. Cowering, they have taken refuge elsewhere, not knowing if their dens are being destroyed while they are gone.

Our bodies unconsciously tense and relax, contract and release with the bouncing, turning, and bucking of the vehicles. We hold our breaths, then breathe fast and explode with laughter.

Once we stop, all is still. The desert night twinkles with a thousand stars lighting up the dunes. The moon glows like a nocturnal sun.

Although distant in our daytime lives, we are compadres of the night. Giggling, sharing secrets, we are fearless with drink.

When daylight comes, tracks reveal the past shenanigans of the mechanical animals. The tracks begin to erode in the wind, and the memory of the night fades, for us and for the desert creatures, cautiously returning home.

-SLG