Phoebus climbs precisely upward,
Desert glass dusting in his wake.
Cactus limbs poise
Mesquite snarls, spindly,
Collude against the scorching arc,
Pack down water and reserve all precious life.
Brittle claws and scaly flesh advance,
Forked tongues thrashing flames augustan
Sand-dense wings and
bone-kempt feather scatter,
Harvest nectar scarce amidst the furls.
Run in terror from out each angle,
Evaporate completely in their madness
Growing pale and then forgotten,
In some crude ditch,
A verdant tower rises,
Proffering spines into the hot wind.