Albuquerque

Desert dreams vanish in the vapor-pasted air,

screaming strains on the pavement, racked

with a muted mindset. Disquieting glare

reminds the world of  broken ambition, tracked

into hiding where it sleeps alone, waiting

for the righteous rain to prevail again,

flooding into the heart of a lost soul, paving

the road to fulfillment once more, then

 

driving the spirit into a mystical existence,

so that visions no longer lose sight,

bearing meaning no matter the distance,

traveling further into the barren night.

Even dreams can tumble like weeds

before taking root and becoming seeds. 

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