Arid

cacti
clothe this arid terrain,
       this sapless, sepia soil.
night comforts,
relieves, then rested sun rises
again to torment.
the air smells
sharply
of carnage and ruin.
tongues of insects
are calling out in need
of rain.
tiny reptile
toes
scurry across sand, searching
shade.
overheard, in sky,
overhead,
in adagio chirping, creatures
                         singing
a torrent tango.