The Desert Wind
My mom taught me about the beauty of writing. I have finally found the strength to start reading through her journals, and I must say, her writings taught me a lot about my mother. So, without further ado, I would like you to meet the Mary Hunt whom I loved. The Mary who was brilliant and terse all in the same breath. This poem conveys the core of a woman I stood by no matter how angry I was. I would like you all to meet my mom.
“The Desert Wind”
I listened to the desert wind
When I was in the desert
I loved to hear it.
It gave me peace and happiness.
It howled across my little truck
And brought the sounds of train wheels
Right across my shoulders.
I can never forget listening to the wind
In the desert.
The wind whispered stories
And gold mines and mule trains,
Interesting things I wanted to hear.
It never seemed to stop
And I could never hear enough.
I have heard it sing and whisper
And laugh for many years.
And I have listened.
But I never told it so.
I never ever said “Hey wind,
I listened to you today.”
And the wind never said, “Oh yeah?
I thought you always listened
It seemed like you did.”
There has never come a time
When the desert wind
(Who is my friend)
Has said to some other wind,
“She NEVER listens, NEVER, NEVER!
You just don’t know what it’s like -
How she never listens!”
I would almost cry.
-Mary West Hunt, 1983.
I miss you so much, mom. You wrote like a master. I love you.
Sit on Lex’s shoulder today for good luck during his nursing boards. -Toot. Let’s talk again Wednesday, I’ll bring the coffee. -R.