Light
Traveling all day in this relentlessly
Generous desert glow
Drenched in particles of light
That flow around and through me
I finally give up hiding from it.
Somewhere amongst the countless hours
Of noon I remove my sunglasses
And step out of the shade
And then layer by layer
My clothing goes: hat first
Then the sleeves of my shirt
Then the shirt itself.
I step out of my long skirt
Leaving a trail of useless fabric
Behind me down the yellow
Centerline of the road I can
Barely see, drowning now
In all this light. It is the same light
I lived in as a child
When I ran through trees whose leaves
Filtered it so it ran pure gold
Deep into afternoons that burned
Down to claret dreams I consumed
Like a miniature goddess drunk on
Stolen wine.
Now I am leaving my undergarments
In a small pile and walking out naked
Into the endless afternoon
Arms raised in artless thanks
Like a saguaro or a Joshua tree
Or a crazy woman dancing down
A dusty road talking to power lines
And passing birds and shaken motorists
Not giving a fuck
Whether any of them answer
Because she’s light
As air
Light as the particles
Singing along her skin
Light as light itself.
