Walking with you in the vast open desert,

            time’s ancient blanket is spread

           like an artist’s pallet before me,

all Earth colors laid bare

            below these mesas in the canyons

           gripped in a cult of curated light by

clouds’ initiation of autumn’s morning air – the

vaporous smells of ancient lands walk with me

           on this path of stone and sand

            the marvel of sun slowly rising

stark with the afterstars of

           dawn’s glistening light

           an enervation of shadow

lifts magnificent a sublime indifference

of glowing form, the rocks of this place speaking

            in tones deep in the same saffron and sorrels            

           of your perfectly canted lips I kiss . . .