Why I Walk

I love cholla dolled up
with fuschia flower jewelry
and clouds’ shadows on
foothills where footprints are shallow.
I walk to witness wildlife,
the roadrunners scamper -
cottontails prance as deer jog,
near hummingbird dancers.
A walk is exploration
beneath canopies of green,
wildflowers bloom among giants,
escape everything that’s mean.
Wind whispers nature’s stories,
says bad weather is rare -
rain and snow demand attention,
the sun doesn’t care.
She’s always there.
Somewhere.

Walking welcomes the weary,
is nice to my knees,
calls from the windows
leads to bird songs and breeze.
I love seeing the moon
arrive early to parties
above salmon-painted Sandias
as it beckons its friends -
stars to usher out sunsets
and summer monsoon fog,
welcomes celebrations’ grand guests -
our neighbors and dogs.