Whispering winds surf the canyon's walls,
Stirring up a rainbow of dust from the Painted Deserts floor.
Rushing water cuts through the rocky gorge,
Like a surgeons knife through bone.
Claps of thunder sound in the distance,
Like cymbals being played by a marching band.
A Kit Fox hurriedly trots across the parched earth,
Unsure which direction to go.
A Tit Mouse gathers grass for its nest,
For he knows the night will be long.
A Leopard Gecko stretches out onto a rock,
To soak up the last rays of the sun.
A Harris Hawk perches himself atop a Saguaro,
As if the desert centurion.
The air becomes still.
The sun fades behind the darkend heavy clouds.
All is quiet.
A drop of rain hits the desert floor.
The Harris Hawk takes flight