Time flows quickly now
like frightened rodents
on the desert floor
scramble sudden for burrowed havens
ravenous predator stalk
some disguise their lairs
and nest with sagebrush -
wait for the sniffing cold nose
and dispassionate black eye
to pass and carefully
discriminately
lift their fragile frames
to survey their tiny tract
of desert flesh.
Sometimes
they feel the stiff desert wind
and the confident closeness
of the green sage.
Sometimes
a quick pinning paw
gnash of teeth and
white hot screams from
the back of the neck,
and a soft dim light
filtered green by sage
fills the empty nest below.

I see the desert logic now
as one painful process
all subjective sentience
I observe through drab-green eyes.
The half life of sage
my teeth long since come
to rest - my limbs flexible.
I am blessed with truly
astounding properties of
functional recuperation.
My mind no longer flickers
mammalian warm blood
biped subroutines.
I've reduced you to flashes
infrared light on a textured screen
projected through my coiled limbs
of rolling brush.
A short lived episode of unending grace,
I have ceded your lineated frames
of reference to the desert flesh
but for one brief impression
of warm blooded hands on my waist
and the tinged electrical response
of your slow breath on the
nape of my neck
a final sigh -
and you twist and tumble
in the wind
swirling around my desert teeth
and through gold dead sage eyes.

The sage bristles overhead
silence
a quick pinning paw
gnash of teeth and
white hot screams from
the back of my neck
and a soft dim light
filtered gold by sage
fills my empty eyes below.