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Mojave Home
by Elizabeth Mastin
It's the beauty that counts
in this desert valley;
this outpost for outlaws,
gamblers and dreamers.
It's the sun that pools
like golden liquid:
honey spilled out
with spirits attached.
It's the beauty at night;
the phenomenon of desert
rocks glowing white
under snowing light.
I touch the ground
to see if it is real.
It's red carved hills
and the Colorado River.
It's Lake Mojave;
the carp and the ducks.
It's the beauty that counts
and all is ruled over
by great Spirit Mountain:
birthplace of time.
The wind whips and swirls.
The sun shines right through it:
Mojave Desert:
The land that I love.

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