I can see the shadows 
cast on the driver’s face 
by the ornaments hanging 
from the rearview mirror.

The sun must be about parallel to the earth, 
coming down to burn us all to a crisp.

I turn to the window and 
it’s still there, 
hovering above the never-ending sand 
and desert shrubs.

Would these make good tinder too?

The desert allows itself
to be viewed as a coherent landscape
– an act of sublime confidence,
a glimpse into another order of scale.

It should be too big to be seen
all at once
but there it is
daring you to slip out too far.