Smooth Sand - Dec. 13, 202

Tahquitz Creek

is empty of water

and walking shadows

the green-brown grass along

its bank is quite tough,

making the wind go through it

while the homeless sleep

near it, and coyotes snake

their way around both

though their awful howls

from a bloody night-hunt

cry only in a year-old memory

and the crazy man standing in

mud, arguing with a March sunset

never returned

the sand is smooth now

the rabbits must be happy

to see only their footprints