Riding through a dense desert plain, watching cacti
play with little prairie dogs and snakes, being
careful not to poke or prick them.
Quail running quickly across streets with their new
little family members.
Love-lorn beauty stands on rims of vision as it
encircles minds with it's basic illusions and
considerate affectations.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem