LSM Network

Ad Nauseam

By Ian Fiedalan 

I am a cactus in Atacama;

The humid air fills my lungs;

It penetrates my cell

and molds my structured fiber;

I am a cactus in Atacama;

I breathe the air

and the sun burns my green;

I am a cactus in Atacama;

I give shade to old spider;

Provide stronghold arms to the resting bird;

I am the cactus in Mojave;

But how I wish I lived in Atacama.

(c) by the author; August 2011, Kalookan.