The desert sun is hot and white, The sky an azure blue, The wind-blown sand a golden glow, The rocks a rusty hue. The rabbit brush with yellow trim, Accents the silver sage, Green piñons point up towards the sky, Grown massive with great age. The prickly pear with flowers pink, And spiny fruit a purple-red, In starving coyote's hazel eyes, Is better than sliced bread.
I love the structure. I am wondering about the gray spikes – the prickley pear spines? or something new? It does draw me back to the desert – love the smell – the quiet. the space. Makes me long for a bit of time there.
Yes… prickly pear spines. All the coyote scat I see around here (and Utah and Nevada) is full of prickly pear seeds. Having tried to peel one without burning off the spines first, I can’t help but wonder how desperate the little buggers must be to brave those nasty spikes and how terrifying it must be to try to eat one without opposable thumbs and tools to help reduce the risk.
I tweaked the last stanza some… hopefully this is a little clearer and reads better.
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