Frozen Dancers - Sonnet by Dustin Vado

Frozen Dancers

Sonnet about Joshua Trees


To dance without moving is to forgive
passersby rife with blindness who never
pay regard to the home in which they live
instead thinking they will thrive forever.

Sprawling in Mojave winds of summer,
a choreographed prayer, or somber tear
wants long to lament their silent bummer:
Mother, please don't grant me another year.

My still facade an idolized marquee,
high desert pests make love inside of me.
I abort their numbers so they may find
their home is treacherous to swagger minds.

Eat my fruits, drink my milk, and weave my leaves,
my frozen pose, an everlasting eave.