Desert Dweller-thoughts on life, death and gardening.

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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

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Whitewater Draw, Southern Arizona

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American Dream

Sweet land of liberty where hope and dreams go to die. Another goddamn mirage. Land of pilgrim's pride beckoning the impoverished, the persecuted, the lost, with dreams of opportunity, promises of safety and prosperity. When they land here, land of the free, home of the brave, they are greeted by barbed wire fences. Reviled in a land that speaks in riddles, where each accent is a target, each skin tone a statistic. Their pleas for belonging, echo in marble halls where no one listens, where forms multiply like rats, where hope festers in sterile waiting rooms, lost in the fog of indifference. The sun sets slowly on weary backs, moon a cold witness to dreams that evaporate, laughter dissolving in the roaring night. © 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 67/365 Image generated by AI.

Writing

Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. --Gene Fowler 

After The Hunt

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