She shows up
like a slim Mae West
wearing fringes and boots
ten shades gone is the ingenue
beneath a plethora
of wild ringlets
her mind delves and ravels
fades to sawdust memories
and tequila nights
She stands regal
in those polished boots
and dances
a sempiternal two-step
among cactus
once mistaken
for lily pads
As the whispering earth pulsates
in unison
to the beat of coyote songs
and the rush and roaring
of that
rambunctious wind
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