A lone cedar tree, a miracle, a conundrum,
is anchored in a moonscape of gypsum
where the little rain that falls in a year
splashes and runs away down the arroyos
quick as a stealing coyote.
I think that If I could see through the layers,
through limestone, sandstone and quartz,
see how roots grip rock so tightly
that tree limbs defy wind
I might learn how to hang on to life,
challenge the erosion of little moments
that become dust in the desert sky.