Clean

She grows up
In far west Texas
With the desert as
Her mentor and the
Vega green along the
River a place so vast the
Sky is stretched to light blue
To cover it horizon to horizon
Brought up to believe in the
Truth as an absolute with
No place for truth being
Relative to perspective
Yet she senses there
Is more than just
Right or wrong
El Paso or
Juarez
And
In the
Desert
The evidence
At Hueco Tanks
Is another truth of
Existence in harsh limits
Yet a fine country for old men.
I sense her mind turn over
Who and what matters
In her world so like
O’Keeffe’s Ghost
Ranch wood
Beams and
Plastered
Walls
Dry
Wit and
Wet water
Eyes or stock
Pond and, clean.