The second Saguaro Poem is a deeply felt coming-to-terms with the realization plainly obvious from the collapse of the individual named ‘Strong-Arm’ that I mentioned before my first Saguaro Poem, “‘That cactus is so study!’”:
I can’t, in the end, come to terms. I can’t drain the blood from my body, and even if that would do any good for the tribes of the Sonora, the Saguaro and Barrel, the Organ Pipe, the Ironwoods and every other living being that inhabits that stretch of Earth, there’s only so much blood in my body, only so much good I could do.
For the Saguaros
Lucca Daniel Green 1 September 2022
How many drops of blood are in my body? Enough for one drop dashing earthward for each of the saguaros that yet live? 'One drop for your nurture,' I would say, and the earth would soak in blood my own, my gift, a penance, an agony for misery.
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