Full moon in the Mojave Desert

 The moon moves fast
crawls out of the mountain
is on her way
this wandering sister

I see her trek
her rise
her arching back

and wonder whether the sea
of silence
is really still
or does the moon-wind
sing to sand
does the sand screech or howl
in the chase

or does all fall
still
on deaf ears
and does she so feel
filled

her predictable
migration
and the north star
as linchpin
to the turning
of the unheard movement
of the solace
of the sun

From one gas pump to a third in the time to write the poem...