Juniper shadow where a skittering
   whiptail reallocates its heat,  
     resinous, cool shade littered 
      with pale blue seeds, together

  we seethe. Then the light we cut into
    collapses the dream, and we wake up  
       asleep, separate again. Shadow caster, 
          I remember distinctly you seemed like

    a friend. Clear as the Jahwist’s tree that
      burnt without consuming, you
        addressed me. “Tell them everything
           alive is speaking.” More like your outline

     since, I’ve offered absentia like a gift, like
       shelter from the elements. Talk about hubris.
          Piñon nut in a crown of needles, your polite
            flavor drawn from thin air over the banks

      of the river, from the riverbed, with a hint of
         the swiftness of the water, and the water run
           dry, subtly lavenderlike, brings obscure moons
              to mind, and a sudden face startles the cliffside.

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