When even the silvery night was assuredly asleep,
Evening's frisky perfume faded into oblivion deep;
Passionate and alluring...the beat of distant Indian drums,
Heeded only by sleepless crickets in sultry hums.
A yearning regained for a renewed day,
The clouds spelt your name over the canyon grey
Rumbling rain dotted the river bed,
Soaking the purple rays into the Settlement, now untread.
In a gentle flicker of an ageless earthern lamp,
Through the haze of the dusk on the canyon ramp...
I notice your silhouette…the coyote cries,
I hold you…my passionate lips seek her passion’s prize!
