Broken shards glint in ancient treasure troves. Scurrying reptiles and lizards leaping. Broken matates in piles, near granaries, for corn keeping. Four friends packing reflections reticulated. Clear water not lacking, we won't end up desiccated.
Ravens spiral, floating buzzard hawk too.
Sun slips, after awhile giving canyon colors a wondrous hue. Wondrous things we see, and ancient way beckons. The West ain't where you're bound but where you play, work and stay. Wall Street Journal in New York. Every day is Earth Day when you're dabbling in the dirt.