Lonely Things

“I know the spirits
of the verdant forest,
of the quiet meadow
and the Alpine lake.”
I said.
“But what dwells here
in this desolation,
just east of the Sierras,
in this vast expanse
of sand and salt?”

Her gilded tresses
swept across her shoulder
in wild array
as she turned to gaze
on the monochromatic landscape,
washed out in the glare
of a merciless sun.
Her eyes fell from the
barren, jagged peaks,
to the sand and salt below.
We had climbed those mountains
before,
but God, we had never seen the other side!

“Lonely things.” She answered.
“Lonely things live out here.”