All gravel stone and sand
But for the cholla
In her prickly shrine
The will to live
Or the will to not die
Courage or fear
(I’m unsure which)
Drives them to the beach
Lungs filling with salt water
Muscles spent
Energy exhausted
The old iron
Rust
Pitted
Flaked
Like me
Still strong
possibility
options
choices
consequence
that is life
it can be difficult
to find the branches
which lead to the light
Though life seems so
Ephemeral
While stone seems so
Well, eternal
Drought leaves the gully quiet
What water there is
Seeps down a shaded wall
Trickles in the valley
When rock flowed as liquid
And the only solid lands
Were granite rafts
Floating on a molten orb
But perched here
On the hillside
A few hundred feet high
It is just 20 miles
To where the sea
Touches the sky