Beyond velvet purpled mountains,
beyond my reach
the golden globe
of life
sinks.

Nearer to me
tender stems of paloverde
play in a breeze so gentle
while roots
strengthen their grip
within the earth

Do others hear
winds whisper
through these thorned limbs
and not hear their cries?

Am I only
aware of blood
trickling
from it's outstretched veins
oozing
from gnarled joints
saturating the ground
with darkened pools of pain?

I a fading world
this paloverde and I
wait, wait
for the black of night