It's A Lonesome Desert At Night - Poem by Smoky Hoss
I stood in a phone booth
In the middle of the desert
And listened to it ring,
It sounded like some sad old song
I think I used to know how to sing -
I heard Spanish horns
Wailing in the distant air,
A longing upon the Western wind
Rolling in from somewhere, far beyond here, or there -
Rain started down
As hypnotically I picked up the phone,
I heard lightning crackle through the line
And thunder seductively groan -
A voice in the wind
Blew hot and low
Throwing desperate dust into the fading sky,
While shadows in the flashes and trembles through the ground
Gave clouds cause to cry and cry -
I wanted so to call Someone...
But, I didn't know how; and
It really wouldn't have mattered anyway,
For I had no quarters...
Nor any good words left to say -
Upon the desert floor the next morn
I awoke, cold and alone
Covered in both dust and dew,
The phone booth and storm were gone...
But the sky remains forever, the deepest shade of pure blue.
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