Between Tucson and Phoenix
Saguaros have rested
for two hundred years
on the slopes of Pinnacle Peak
before continuing their ascent.
A few on the ridge wait for the others.
The nearby peaks darken their mirrors
to show the clouds
the shape of their beauty.
White rocks bleach
the air we breathe this morning.
Green hearts cluster
beneath blue metallic suns.
Daniel Brick's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
the landscape. It's only the metaphorical language that makes it strange.
Comments about this poem (Between Tucson and Phoenix by Daniel Brick )
The Road Not Taken
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