Night

On a high desert road,
where the wind chips away
at the skin of the world,
sand snakes
across the asphalt,
slithers into ditches,
and ravening packs
of tumbleweeds bite
at the tires of passing cars.
The sun, an open
wound, inflamed,
oozes into the horizon,
while a tattered stand
of junipers huddles
under the darkening sky,
and bats tremble
in their sleep
(rustling, restless dreams),
waiting for the night.