"South of the Border" big tent poetry #45-stuck,stranded or otherwise trapped

On the desert floor air is frigid at night
Deflated memories bound in a cyclone
I look for a familiar star to guide me in my twilight
No cars pass on this purple-tinted highway in the dark

Can you hear the coyotes howling in the middle of the night?

On the desert floor the sun is blistering in the daytime
Scorpions and vultures searching for prey
Cacti as tall as buildings lay veins in the earth
Spines emerging from areoles, too close you bleed
Dust rises, settles in my hair and eyes in the sun
As I try to protect myself there's no shade
Parched mouth, water’s gone, dry skin, I’m tired
Hoping for a passerby
to rescue me from
a liquorice-coloured route
that disappears ahead