135. The Desert (Myshkin, 2021) · couplets

The desert is where wise men go to rest. It’s arid, true, but sunsets are the best; Sunrises fill your heart with joy and glee; No cell reception, just serenity. It might look dead and empty, like a corpse, A land attacked by heat without remorse. Palpation might revive its dying heart But without water, soil still falls apart. The eagle sees it all and knows the way To secret spots where trees still grow and sway. We haven’t built a prefab house there yet, But give us time. We’ll make, and lose, that bet.