Morenci Arizona
       

The three-ton mine trucks reek
of burning oil and brakes. They rev,

stop to refuel. Today the reservoir
is lapis. The sky is slate but clearing.

The rock is drenched chalk.
Our cuffs rolled nearly to knees.

Our raised voices are tangling
the way I wish our bodies would.

This air is not the only heaviness.
I watch the belts drop chalocite,

malachite, azurite and chrysocolla.
Lion, dragon, hummingbird, sheep:

this way the clouds have meaning.
My only power is this ability to name.

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Copyright © 2019 Patricia Colleen Murphy All rights reserved
from Bully Love
Press 53
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission