Devil's Playground
When the sun is beating down?
It glistens off the pyrite flakes
That glitter on the ground.
It cooks your mind till you can't think
And drives you half insane.
It makes you pray for water,
At least one small drop of rain.
The heat waves waver up ahead
And make the sagebrush dance.
You think you hear the devil's voice.
He laughs, "You have no chance"
You curse that demon, curse him deep
And turn your face on high
You hear your savior telling you
"You're not about to die".
And then you see it up ahead,
An oasis in the shade.
You thank your savior for his help
And the wonders he has made
You drink the cool fresh water
That's been put there just for you,
You hear the far off coyote howl,
The devil's had his due.
By Don Rothra
Published by Don Rothra
Published poet and a retired professional musician but mostly jack of all trades. Several years experience in construction. Song writer and country band leader for many years View profile
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9 Comments
Post a Commentliving in my little corner of the world... this one hits home for me
Very good, I very much enjoyed the rhythm and imagery in this poem!
Too hot for me! I prefer snow!
Ooh -- sounds like a hot, thirsty place to be at high noon! The desert is so beautiful but people do need to use some sense in that area, don't they!
Triumphant poem. I just love your imagery.
Very nice :)
I'll be thinking about this when I'm in the desert next month! lol.
great one!
Good Poem! Thanks! I like it!