By Mary Lou Griggs © 2017
Little Spike
Just a sprout off his mum. Needles sharp.
Takes awhile, years, we’re told, to branch out.
Slow… To… Grow… Oh! To be big as mum.
Present Arms
Teenager saguaro, still unarmed.
Standing tall. Wants to wave, yet cannot.
Just waiting for the time to bear arms.
Oldtimer
Years of sun? Two-forty. Day is done.
These old bones sound eerie in the wind.
Time to rest. Return to Mother Earth.