Desert DreamingJacque Garcia | June 2018
I’ve returned to the place we camped that night.
The moon is bright and the sky is crystal clear.
Above the dusty tumbleweed
And below the milky way, I think:
There’s no place I’d rather be than here
Where the line between fantasy and reality
Is so thin I’m not sure it’s even there.
The desert breeze hits me like a memory
And I’m happy to have known you, my dear.