Desert School

I want the desert to be my living room,

The mountains my teacher.

Silver, sweet iron and a blue heeler shall be my companions,

Maybe a Hannah Ballantyne sketch or two.

I love that the dream of who you might be,

Pushes me to be a better woman,

Sight unseen.

I want long hard days spent with horses, flighty cattle,

Greek poets, art, art

And more art.

If I was playing Cinderella and he was

Price Charming,

He’d ask me to travel the world,

While slipping a pair of Bonds on my stockinged feet.

Tipis, wood stoves, big blue patches on levi covered knees,

Old airplanes

Maybe a cherry pie or two,

Would add color to the grainy

Black and white film

Our story will become.

But I’m not Cinderella,

And most are afraid to love

Such a blue eyed,

Blonde haired mess.

Cigarette smoke swirls above my head,

Like my fumbling prayers to God above.

Fair warning sir,

It’s just life in the new,

Wild West.

  

xo xo Elizabeth