Songs of the
Santa Catalinas

"...who can get past the tangles of the world
and sit with me in the clouds..." – Cold Mountain 32













3

The Catalina outcrops never end
I follow the false horizons ever upward
finger rock trail a desert pilgrim
look back down the canyon to the fading city
downtown skyscrapers the size of the saguaro
that stands right before me green holy symbol
the ripe red fruit of the prickly pear
tumbles down quietly in offering

4

city streets under the cloud of desert heat
streetlights flash and cars idle to a stop
we dash across the street in hope of safety
loud music blares from a truck the size of a tank
later when I reach the top of finger rock trail
I hold like a grasshopper each thought
then let them leap up and fly to the sand below
release every blinking image and know home