perhaps from some whistle dream awakening,

somewhere Zacateca laundry screen door slamming,

another cosmic pause for inspiration pleading,

or worse

then I remember:

a drop of water

may grow

drowsy,

while sweetening unfulfilled desert gardens

okay, now everything's all right...

thereafter, my mind's eye follows a panting,

stoked by

a thoroughly winded

neverending hike,

straight up

past these turquoise clouds,

and only gettin higher

yes breath, everything's all right...

out here past this satisfying staircase,

resides this Gulch...

this esteemed bath...

this necessary respiratory regeneration,

a tried and tested initiation

into this B-Mountain psychedelicized heaven

Bisbee,

1973