The Arid Land

There will be willows plunging
Their bloodless roots in air
And the hard crooked flying
Of buzzards circled there.

About the treeless wastes
No sand may ever heap
With water, nothing will run
And nothing creep.

Arid, desolate, defiant
Under its iron band
Of sky, we yet may love
This so sunny land.

Credit

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on November 5, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem

“The Arid Land” appears in Laughing Horse, no. 14 (August, 1927). In “Laughing Horse Magazine and Regional Modernism in New Mexico,” Daniel Worden, associate professor in the college of art and design at the Rochester Institute of Technology, writes, “The three-stanza poem moves from a description of the desert as a place of death and waste to an affectionate, if hesitant, recognition.[. . .] [Lynn] Riggs does not romanticize the landscape. Instead, the landscape is recognized as a hostile wasteland, but there is nonetheless something to ‘love’ in the desolation and defiance connoted by the arid land.”