Sampler

Windy, dusty, barren day
In what used to be mid-spring.
The desert wants to return

To oceans of dunes again,
The sand grains that created
These layers of sandstone cliffs,

Rusty-yellow, white, and dun,
Especially dun-looking
Today, as the old dust spins.

The green itself seems to sense
It’s hopeless this time, this bloom.
It’s going to be wasted.

It’s going to wither soon.
As soon as leaves burst, they droop.
Out on Mars, rocks know a thing

Or two about going back
To all the way before wet
Started leaving them, before

Wet started seducing them,
Before wet meant anything.
Mars is dry enough to know.