Last Days in Atacama

 By: Deborah Boyer

Rock and sand and ash

Bleached bones

Brutal and beautiful  

This is a place that can seduce you 

And swallow you 

Undisturbed shelters of stacked stones built into rock faces

Vestiges of centuries of struggles to survive

Way stations for shepherds and shamans 

Warriors and wanderers

Sense them still in the shimmering heat, in the hot wind on your face 

Voices lift toward the mountain spirits

Echo in the rock caves

Plaintive prayers for protection from destruction

For drops of water that could mean salvation

I add my footsteps to the sacred trail  

Passing the long-surviving Rica Rica plant 

Tenaciously hanging on in sand and rock and fierce wind

Serving generations with sweet berries and medicinal bark

Its minty leaves will flavor my Pisco Sour tonight

 

Back in the lodge

I dive into the swimming pool

Stand under the rain shower 

Rinse away the dust of the day

Reapply lip balm

But something has taken hold of me that will not wash away

And I am a wanderer in Atacama

Seduced and aching with the beauty of bleached bone

Deborah Boyer explores the ways we are changed by our experience of the natural world, using imagery to access and expose our inner landscapes.  Deborah cherishes her time in nature – both locally and in her travels abroad—and tries to honor these places in her poetry and photography.  A California native and life-long lover of poetry and fiction, Deborah studied literature at Pomona College and UC Berkeley.  She currently lives in Orinda, California with her husband.