Salmon sunset cracks open
the celestial skull of the desert like an egg,
pouring light in the empty space
that kisses the mountain ridges.
Sagebrush grabs pools of glittering sand
between its greedy roots.
Droplets of sunlight leap from the ground
as if violently repelled by earth’s core,
filling up the atmosphere
like a golden goblet, as the bolting,
ethereal silhouette of a jackrabbit
drinks up the drops of light like fine wine.
Here, emptiness has more gravity than matter,
voids dazzling brilliance.
Light exists solely in cracks and crevices,
spaces unpossessed by mass,
uncontaminated by substance,
let alone by presence.
So we drain ourselves of sorrow like a sinkhole
and abandon baggage on the dusty trails.
And with nothing blotting out the path before us,
we race the sun on the long drive home.
© Copyright Samantha Rose 2018
You can catch more of Samantha existing at her blog, Existential Poetry.