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A Sip of the Manzana
A long time since he'd been here,
and now, it was against
doctor's orders (`... and stay out
of the heat ...'). He had come up
through the deep sand of the trail,
at mid-day, through the dry
fi ery air summers bring
up here. Back of him lay
the campground, where he'd parked,
two horse-trailers nearby,
and a single, sagging, small tent.
Now he slogged along, through
sand (loosened by hooves)
hot and white in the white
blaze of over-head sun,
and no movement of air,
his face heating up,
his skin staying dry --
only ten minutes
to the grove of big oak,
digger pine, cottonwood,
and the slow-shifting, black-
shadow shelter they gave.
Near a scatter of boulders
with air tremors above them,
in the dead grasses and weeds
and low, twisting shrubs
drought-stricken and prickly