The was a summer picnic here in the desert,
where a dead and decadent river once flowed...
And an ancient dam built from stone
having no purpose now, the river dried and dead,
the dam out of place and alone.
We toasted to the irredessent colors of the sunset...
Clinked our glasses of red wine,
and savored the taste-
of the Southwestern vine.
It seemed only natural that we kissed,
and a forever memory was born...