A palo verde tree spreading its branches in all
directions, encompassing as much of the desert
atmosphere as possible.
Feeling five squirrels scampering and climbing
from one branch to another, looking for foods
that we don't see at all.
Reaching across branches and limbs, wanting to
find whatever they can before darkness falls
upon this desert shore.
Lake just below this artistically simple tree
of splendor and perfection, symmetrically and
beautiful here at Lake Saguaro.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem