Desert Mornings Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Cacti needles poking my mind, bringing forth memories
of desert times when younger.
Filling days with serene splendor and beautiful wonder
as I played quietly with rocks, making my own little
nooks and secret hiding places.
Secretly and openly putting treasures found on desert
floors into caves of my own making.
No one interrupting or finding what I'd done on desert mornings.
Looking back, remembering these solitaire good times
fills me with pleasant thoughts on lonely, rainy
afternoons, under desert skyways; finding their paths
lead into hallways of mind-blowing endeavors.