Magic Marker and Oil Painting — Image by kenne
Sunrise Over the Catalinas
Magic marker lines bleed into oil—
the desert never holds still long enough
to be captured clean.
Cactus spines catch first light,
ocotillo arms rise like prayers
half-drunk on morning air.
The mountains smolder pink and gold,
a slow ignition of everything I love—
wildness, solitude,
the stubborn ache of beauty
that doesn’t give a damn
whether I’m watching or not.
