God's wrath struck the Joshua tree
   and burned it to its cremated ashes
   then let our world settle. Let it be.
   We watched it in lightening flashes.
   We live in angry desert cactus scrub
   hidden branches of the poison creosote
   where the only touch is death's rub.
   We have all but given up any hope.
   The stars are your eyes up above.
   The wind is my hands on our love.