Painted High

The desert sun set,
dancing its crayons,
in variegated waves,
over our awe-
stricken eyes.

Overwhelmed to a
heartbeat, drum in the
ears, we ached for
time to stand
quietly still.

Land blackened coal,
to a bone chilling howl,
and the harlequin
gave way to the
moon.

Copyright Denise A White