Desert Dweller

We ride slowly
along the winding cemetery road
past mythic oaks, shadowy sycamores
and red-leafed maples.

At the top of a small hill,
the road curves to the right,
and there I see my future.

Three feet from the road’s edge,
a headstone:

No epitaph,
no dates,
only a name,
my name.

And suddenly
I am mortal.

© 2026 Bruno Talerico
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