For Ryan Sanchez 1982-2004

Quilled saguaros stand,
no wind or skin for miles.
Road the only line—
quivering black kingsnake.
Palms on the seat, engine pulsing beneath,
heart of the galah bird.
Red day rising over
russet earth.

"Reaching for the Sun" by Melissa Ireland

The August monsoon
caught us by surprise.
You looked up into air
lit purple, clinging to
your hair like morning.

Motor hushed with
a flick of the wrist,
illuminating stop of summer lightning.
Sky blue and empty as a painted bowl,
the straight desert road
we thought we'd follow.

BIO: Kate Durbin is a 23-year-old poet, radio (her current "real" job) and fiction writer who lives in Southern California, though she regularly visits her family in Phoenix, Arizona. She likes to think of herself as a "desert rat," as she gets cold anytime the temperature outside drops below 80. She has just recently started submitting her poetry to journals; her poem entitled "The Fifth Gospel" won the annual St. Mary of Magdala poetry contest. EMAIL: xcornflakegirlx@yahoo.com