By: Amy Katherine Cannon
direct observation
butterflies the size of thumbnails fumble against dry flowers
that seem like they have nothing left to yield
the desert and the parched land will be glad
cicadas grind their scissors from hill to hill
clouds we cannot name a string of forgotten sheep
line up along the sky the mute will shout for joy
the desert is greener than we imagined honeybees crowding
to wild buckwheat olive and bleached pink
the powdery gray of scrub oak
long thin reach of mustard plant tints the sharp slopes yellow
small sensible flowers not advertising more than they can offer
the wilderness will blossom in paler shades than we were used to
Amy Katherine Cannon is a writer and writing teacher living in Los Angeles. She received her MFA from UC Irvine, where she was the recipient of the Gerard Creative Writing Endowment. She is the author of the mini-chapbook to make a desert (Platypus Press, 2016). Her work can be found in Juked, BOAAT, and LIT, among other places. She is Managing Editor of Palaver Arts Magazine, a student publication.