The captivating morning sky
tips its hat to Maxfield Parrish
in the New Mexico way
not as softly fluffy
pale streaks light of the newly risen sun
in the assertive clouds
hinting at monsoon
over this sere August
ground dry as an old set of bones
awaiting another painter
Georgia O’Keefe knew the skeleton
of this place
we are defined by escarpment and sky
the birds know it well
as do the grasshoppers and mosquitoes
coyote and mountain lion
say humans will one day
give it all back
to those here first
wretched nightshade will take over the asphalt
in an Armageddon of plant assertion
only the sky and silhouette of mesa
will look as it does now
bold and certain in every season
