Wadi Cherith

Ravens came at dawn with bread and meat
that choke against the heat of high drought.
So hard to trust this callous place is home
when life is kept on savage wastes alone.
A bed of dry leaves, a fractured granite wall;
the soreness of my wanderings.
I scoop the brook carefully, lest I disturb
the slumber of the ancestors of Ammon.
My reflection is wounded and drips.

Ravens came at dusk to gift me bread and meat
dropped shreds and crusts at my blood stained feet.
The scarlet dust made their bead eyes blink
this realm of mine frustrates reluctant moisture.

Ravens retreat this night, a tar brush sweep behind bluish mountains
sinking, cool as paint.