You sit in the forgotten bone-dry hills
surrounded by sand and sagebrush
above Buffalo Pound Lake.
A day and a night, and then
three more days and nights.
Do not mark the hours. Just sit
until the prickly pear raises its bloom.
A pale thing, translucent moon, sea anemone,
the first thin veil of a cataract that will lead a man
to the necessity of seeing with another kind of eye.
Can you birth a thing like this flower?
Elemental, composed of water and light.
The concentrated effort of pure will.
The blossom wilts and drops
without sadness, nothing resembling
nostalgia or regret.
Randy Lundy, "THE CACTUS" from Blackbird Song. Copyright © 2017 by Randy Lundy. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
Source: Blackbird Song (University of Regina Press, 2017)
