My Husband Poem by Joni Moosman

My Husband is like warm weathered wood
A twisted cedar on the desert floor,
touching the oppressive sands of times.
Never growing towards the sun.

He showed me where a mountain lion stood
on a sandy San Rafael river shore.
Native spirits played along the willows as they whipped like chimes.
His rusty roan horse carries his gun.

My Husband smells like old leather gloves.
Holding me like the reins of his bridle we follow the trail.
Old trails to roofless cabins, long time forgotten.
He's sings a love song with out any tune and a smile.

Some old western ballad, lyrics of lost love.
He builds me a fence with rough pine rails.
Planting red roses, curtains of cotton.
His rough hands in mine we have shared life's trials.

My Husband is like a cool desert night.
A burning star falling from the West.
Caressing the ledges and narrow canyons red.
Casualty from another time and place.

Nocturnal world sprinkled with Heavens light.
Wrap your arms around me while I rest
Till the fire of the night is dead.
And the Desert moth has gone without a trace.