Saguaro (2)

i followed the scent
of a white saguaro blossom
deep into the desert,

counted well
how my thirst would develop,

counted the hours
before my withered body
would embrace the shifting sand.

counted them the same as the hours
of a life at sea,

failing to appreciate
that such a creature could endure in the absence
of so much more than water,

failing to understand
how different something as simple as respiration could be,

failing to predict
that i would stumble into a lack of oxygen,
turning so many beautiful shades of

red, blue, violet –

becoming a flower myself,
blossoming briefly
next to you.

Saguaro (1)

does water miss the saguaro
blossoming in the desert?

does air miss the satellite?

does earth remember the edible red fruit
after it has decomposed?

what is left to remember fire?