"Sonora Wasteland"

Mica flecks, a child's thrill at richness.
Parched desert soil further tarnished with the waning day.
Heat dissipating.
Waking life.

The working sounds of night.
No longer distinguishable with the naked eye.
Mans genetic flaw.

Prairie dogs released from imprisioned burrows,
sitting on haunches, scurrying from knoll to knoll,
frenetic in their movements.

Unsuspecting prey, relaxing from the day time heat,
soon to be nocturnal feed.

New movement designs the desert floor.
Life side-winds its way and preys with paralyzing force.

With cautious steps, I side-step a desert rose
emblazoned with the setting sun.
Grace and beauty in the sonora wasteland.
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