The Glowing Heart of the World

by Brian Andrew Laird

Arizona six-sixty-six, south in the early light,

Painted desert, streaks of dying night—

Copper-ribboned sands

Empty haunted lands

In the rear-view.

Heading back to the place you gave me,

The past you saved for me,

Where the San Pedro runs

Through cottonwoods

To empty canyons.

I'm going to the glowing heart of the world.

I'm wearing Johnny Ringo's boots

And Kirker's hat,

Got a headache like Mangas Coloradas

Staring out at the Willcox flats.

I'm wandering in the desert

Wishing I were old

Remembering when you were with me

At the glowing heart of the world.

I was a boy when you brought me here,

I looked up at your eyes, but saw no fear.

We waited for the storm to come

So we could smell the rain.

You said, look at this great dry and wrinkled land

Where rivers run, then run to sand —

Here is the glowing heart of the world.

This is the glowing heart of the world.

I'm driving to where I met you,

To the desert where I left you

Memories like bones, white as ash,

Sifting down into sun-bleached sand,

Becoming part

Of the glowing heart

Of the world.