Riff On the 23rd Psalm by Bruce Morton

There is no servant to guide him; 
He thirsts.

He is left to dry washes
Wandering desperate in the dust.

He has lost his mind. 
An imposter, he cannot find it 
In the arroyos of deceit.

No, though he clambers on cliffs
Reflecting in glow of setting light,
He cannot see any blessing for him, 
Alone, desert rats frighten him.

The table is laid bare for his friends. 
He has nothing to share. He is 
Forsaken; his canteen empty.

Surely despair and neglect
Cannot follow him always.
Will he dwell on the street forever?

My lord, he is supposed to have a shepherd;
To not want.

Bruce Morton splits his time between Montana and Arizona. His poems have recently appeared in San Pedro River Review, Muddy River Poetry Review, Main Street Rag, Loch Raven Review, Ibbetson Street, and Sin Fronteras/Writers Without Border. He was formerly Dean of Libraries at Montana State University