Black Chaco Canyon Revery

ghost chorus wailing deep. Ancientminor keys disturb sandy craters,echoing polyphonic, multihued yetvoiceless melancholy only the windhears. Wind, spirit, ephemeral oracle,reciting clever verse, confusing mortals,dispensing ambiguous beliefs.ghost chorus eruption, swirls, creatingmute ancient plaza, solitary occupant;black man sipping Brazilian santosto salute the dawn.

unanticipated tableaux, strikes awe.Chatter drowns chorus, onlookersmiss petroglyphs, stoic maize sowers,undulating lodge poles, bulls cavortlike cartographic satyrs, sunflowersin their hair praying for rain. Soaksunnedblack man absorbs warmadobe reflections trying to ingest,decipher ghost chorus arias.

name that unfamiliar ethereal tune.shake unoffending dust from trailbroken hiking boots, ignore noisy touristpromenade. anazazi grit mingles redMasai dirt, glance back at mechanismspoised to record tumbleweed quartetcrossing the savannah. what am I doinghere? Winds howling, chorus singing,black man basking in open air venuesolder than calcified desert bones.

Conjure imaginary ancient urban processionslike unknown soldiers marking the solstice.ram's horn flutes, bone trumpets, skin drumslike cacophony drowning angry santa ana'swhistling persistence. marchers, featheredfinery like narcotized, lurid, induced dreamsspangle across arid, dun-colored stage.was this place ever green? Anasazi heard,calculated, various shades, tonal audiblesof brown, much like appreciating contemporary Michigan winter greys. nonnatives seldomdiscern the subtleties.

ghost chorus roils, wailing, vibrating,deep within cold unoccupied soil awakenssolitary black man's soul. Can, willcommunication with ancestors disappeared,but not gone, be possible? Snakes, Gilamonsters, revered symbols, burrow chambers,like intoxicated Kiva supplicants,needing, seeking refuge. Ever-present Sun'stongue like blast furnace bellows drivingthem deeper, hopefully, closer to departed spirits.Lone black man shifts baseball cap,adjusts psyche to hear ancestral music.

Petroglyphs, totemic sand, chantingsinging the mystery. Symbolic testimony,like ghost chorus a cappella meditationsringing down ancient corridors, serenadingprevious occupiers enshrined for us to see,claim affinity with, but never understand.solitary black man melds comfortablywith silent warm adobe walls, burnishedsun splashed face pondering the universe,in an empty coffee cup.