Dry
white winds
Blow alkaline air across a
High desert landscape
They cool themselves on
Blue morning water
Stirring stillness into art
The scent of sage and salt
The
call of gulls and jays mingle with
Black glass in the sand
White peaks and saber-toothed craters
Creeks bubbling clear and fast
Restless to move away from winter
This bowl, this basin, bursts with life
But you won't see curling, swirling clouds
Looking straight down the road
A rustling reed is silent when you speak
If you leave before the sun sets
You'll never see all the colors of glory
