Arizona Desert


Endless azure gradients unfold
Smudged only by silky drops of clouds;
A cerulean sky that color-wheel contrasts
The burnt amber of the earth below.
Dust and underbrush wait, strategically scattered,
Wrinkled and titian like immortal Time.

In the spotlight, a cactus poses as a dancer—
Perfect posture, perfect coalition of strength and grace,
Limbs grabbing at the assiduous sun.
The Saguaro stands,
A watchman over the mysterious boscage;
Its prickling spears pierce ridged skin
And defend the reticent, carmine flower nestled behind its ear.
The Saguaro stands,
A weathered survivor of scouring heat and biting nights—
Alone but not lonely,
In the Arizona desert.

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