clouds the color of ground, a brown rain.
Dry riverbeds cut through the dull desert,
snaking under the dusty highway.
Pavement thrums under us as the mountains
stand distant and aloof in their reptilian
rocky exteriors. The washes and channels
are dry. Between us, however, things flow:
No chattering runoffs, no murmuring springs,
just silence—just now--this deepening water
of siblings growing ever more at ease.