My father always wanted to move
West to what he claimed was
Not barren but rather a wild and ravishing
Desert, I imagine the man had visions of
A shimmering Southwest, foothills of advancing
Saguaro, shining nights, did you know when you
Look heavenward from the bottom of a dry wash
You will feel as if you are falling up into a
Whole universe of silver sky and even beyond?

I suppose my father thought he would be able to
Breathe more easily here at this destination
I have not-by-chart discovered first
In his stead, I wonder how it is
A parent dreams a dream then
Long after its fulfillment has been
Abandoned, forgotten, a child by breathing
Out, breathing in, grows forth to live
As if journeying ever onward
And beckoned by stars.