The clean, patient
mercy of summer
waits for the
stubborn tree
to surrender
a single leaf.
Wintry truth
chills the
season, but
sun-baked flowers
blush with
forgiveness.
Michael James Fitzgerald
Cold Summer
Poetry
Broken Star
On summer evenings,
I search the desert sky
for the New Jerusalem.
Somewhere in the
stubborn vastness,
an exquisite light trembles
in the darkness
and Heaven’s compass
conveys me
gently
through the beautiful,
impoverished night.
Michael James Fitzgerald
Desert Coyote
Evening
creeps over me
like that dream I
cannot forget.
I spot the loner,
an easy shot,
a hungry,
ragged survivor,
doing the
sagebrush waltz
with a cottontail.
Beneath late
afternoon
regret,
I drop my rifle
and weep.
Michael James Fitzgerald
