Scott Hicks
On the Bajada
Time rides the backs of wild horses galloping down the ancient arroyo. Displaced dust falls like soft rain, coating the leaves of basin sagebrush. I am company for a friend on a trip to survey the health of this band of seven. The bay stallion pauses, pricks his ears in our direction, and then leads the others away toward pinyon pines and junipers. We follow in a Jeep and on foot once they stop. My friend takes notes, but no photographs to betray their home. They tolerate her taking a closer look, while I stay behind. I hear them getting skittish before seeing them from a distance head off toward the mesa, this time the dust rolling toward me in puffs of breeze as the echoes of hooves fade. Afterward, the moment is quiet, but not; there is the shuffling of side-blotched lizards and the small talk of sagebrush sparrows. Like the first rays of sunrise pointing in my direction: the grin on my friend’s face and the glow emanating from her sparkling eyes as she exits the brush.
jet trails map the sky to the modern world, a pinyon jay hammers out pine seeds tears leave tracks in the dust on my cheeks
About the Author
Scott Hicks lives in the Central San Joaquin Valley of California and was introduced to writing poetry through mindful writing workshops as a therapeutic tool. He continues to write poetry and prose because he wants to, a meaningful choice in his life.