Spring Time In The Mojave Poem by Juan Olivarez

The silence is deafening,
far to the north, a steel grey curtain descends on the mountains.
Usually sunny skies turn to a cloudy coolness,
thousands of tiny yellow faces make the scene.
Cotton tails scurry to and fro,
the gambel quail awaken and start to move.
Doves sing their melancholy songs, breaking the silence.
For endless miles the yellow flowers of the creosote bush,
turn to mini cotten balls.
The snakes and other scaled denizens,
head for cover, not liking the turn to cooler weather.
Spring comes to the Mojave,
and wild flowers in a rainbow of colors,
dot the landscape once again.
Their live's are very short,
But their off progeny will rise next spring.
prelude to the searing heat that is to follow.
Awe inspiring, beauty beyond compare,
words could never do justice to this place.
The Mojave in spring.

4/23/10 29 palms ca.