“Oxygen” by James Doyle

Long View

How it crosses
the Mississippi, swells
with water, rubs
itself spare
on the Rockies, lean
and young to colonize
empty space, stops
short in the great deserts
of the Southwest, splatters
primary color
across the heat scrim
that wavers
from sky to land,
sidles down dry
creek beds like a crest
of transparent water,
fills the drifting
bones with pores,
chases its tail
over the sand, curves
dunes into the shapes
of sidewinders, bakes
fallen shards of cactus
flat so they scatter
like lizards, browns
the sun for touch
so we can gulp
air down, gorge
our lungs and curl
around ourselves
to hold it in
for as many centuries
as it takes.

James Doyle,
The Long View Just Keeps Treading Water
Accents Publishing

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