Night Gives to Things the Turning Beauty of Leaves

The distant lights
     of Tucson
scattered like salt
     along the horizon.
Indigo-peaked
     mountains. A pack

of wild dogs
     chase quail.
Their barks lacquer
     the tail feathers
of the quail. The dogs
     pause, raise

their dark snouts…
     Beneath the arms of
a saguaro my parents
     make love.
Father's chest gleams.
     Mother tilts

her chin up, takes in
     her mouth
the gold crucifix
     roped around
his throat. The stars
     above them

and the sperm
     inside her swimming
frantically toward
     the moon.