Reflections in the desert sun

Sun-scorched rock:
	brick red with streaks
	of black form towering walls
	enclosed by even higher walls




Scorched and brittle,
	junipers and sage
root in the sand and collect every
	drop of water
that passes nearby.




Deep in the canyons:
	a slice of shade,
	a sand-encrusted puddle.




Dripping down the rocks,
	snow-melt on a spring day
	shines opalescent in the sun.





A warble among the junipers—
	first one bird scoots,
	then its friends follow along.




A towering spire, carved
out from the rest of the canyon,
is the work of the millennia.




A tiny stream flows down
	the cliff face,
hardly more than a drop—
	tiny cuts like a chisel.




As the sun sets below the canyon
wall, nightfall seems so near.
It won’t be dark for hours.




What’s hanging onto life
in the remnants of that pool
that’s hardly even mud?




It’s wintertime on the Island in the Sky;
	descend into the canyon
	in search of spring.