What a brutal sun that assaults the cliffs

What a brutal sun that assaults the cliffs

Where cacti and mescals dare to abide!

Here and there, dozens of petroglyphs

Decorating the canyon may be espied.

In large nesting circles neatly drawn

In evaporating wisps and bold squares

In a sun giving thanks for every dawn

In little starbursts and stick figures

In a deer, in an eagle looking strong

In a war scene foretold by prophets

It remains unsaid - time is not long

But to the same end, everything drifts.