Member Poem

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 to give thanks for every dawn
  In little starbursts and stick figures

In a deer, in an eagle looking strong
  In a war scene kept by the ancients –
It remains unsaid – time is not long
  But to a murky end, everything drifts.