Desert Bloom
by Ryan D. Webb
Coarser skin than harsh sand
Call me desert bloom.
My welcoming arms soured
By needles prickling down spine–
My misguided leaves, a ward from predator
I would happily allow prey upon me.
I stand a lone weed waiting to be uprooted
From my superficial serenade.
I deserve nothing past the wind
Yet still hope for stars in the night sky;
I wish they embrace me
Through crisp, arid sunset.
Thirsting for cloudy days,
I live unquenched by rainfall.
I beg–shower me with your warmth;
If but a drop would tie me over the year,
I would dance for a sip and cherish that trickle
In hopes of sprouting a flower to invite you in.