Prickly Things
I am fond of dredging 
a vintage cabin cruiser
across the Sonoran desert
where my hands became
blistered and rope burned,
my back crooked and 
hunched forward,
my skin burnt red
as the anchor sways 
port and starboard
mesmerizing the stars
as a caliche wake 
marks my every misstep
as a hardpan furrow,
where only prickly things 
© SB Joy, 2022

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