Oasis Past the Horizon

Commission for Snakeskurt

The stars point to a fire, dust over
small tent past the next dune.
Home for the night.
(The panther’s steps quicken.)
Gentle purrs from within;
He pushes away the flap and his
Little kitten is smiling.
Welcome home, she says, and he sits on his mat

holding a roll of bills in his right hand and
dinner in his left.
It’s not much but it’ll do.
It’ll be better, he thinks. It has to get better.
There are important things on the way.
She nestles up close and he

Wraps a hand around her waist.
Your baby,
his hands feel kicking.
It’s beautiful.
It’s ours, she says, and they embrace,
Sandswept tent flaps under a waxing desert moon.


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