Heather Banks lives and writes in Rockingham, Virginia.

Cactus Garden
By Heather Banks

A cultured bit of wilderness,
these spines warn off the casual intruder,
caress of man or beast.
Only the most inquisitive will learn
the life well that survives within,
doesn’t show but slakes a thirst,
can save a soul from slow,
then desperate dessication.
It can survive on almost nothing—
long bitter drought, relentless sun’s consuming glare,
mountain shadows’ fall, sudden torrents’ drench.
The occasional flower so bright and rare
seems figment of a dreamer’s palette.

You hide an inner substance, too,
a sustenance not shared with all—
link revealed to but a few—
life support for those
who dare a careful probe.