West Desert Journal by Nathan Cowlishaw

Buzzing power lines cut the wind
The wind howls and moans as darkness grows.
Winter pushes spring feelings away,
And brings dark cloud ships
that hug mountains,
shrouding them in eerie mist.
Fog enters the desert basin.
Mule Deer gather in cottonwood groves.
Flakes of snow start to invade.
The sun’s heat has faded.
The storm moves slow.
By morning, theres eighteen inches of
Fresh powder and growing.

Written by Nathan Cowlishaw