Word count: 191
My Place in the Desert
By Marea Needle
In the heart of Las Vegas, people are energized at full tilt,
stretched to their limit, blinded by light;
a palace oozing with extravagance and pawnshops.
It takes a strong kind to endure that clamorous appetite,
one who’s seen it all:
the jaded, the innocent, the garish, the delicate.
The coin chatter and silence,
On the outskirts, sand sparkles in the moonlight.
Many have passed through overcome by sad loss.
Their need to return to rural lanes,
freshly mowed lawns,
with a rhythm and meaning to their days.
I, on the other hand, can stand upheaval,
I’m used to it:
the hot, the cold, the loud and soft, the neon hours.
Tempo: sempre crescendo
The ones who stay understand my ebb and flow.
They are just as world-weary.
I have embraced this arid life despite the jewels around my neck
and paper-thin riches in my pocket.
The smell of new grass,
someone who waits for me patient and steadfast
looms in my periphery….
It would be lovely, but not very likely.
That is not superfluous!