I saw it in morning half light  
White and gray fluorescent bright  
At the birth of day.  

The colorlessness of death lay  
On each rise and bend  
As if night had drained  
The blood away from earth  
And left unreal bleached bone dust  
Between black stakes and crosses,  
On one great gaping skull.  
But as I watched death's face --  
Morning moved a little in her waking  
And the sage brush tops  
Caught a faint tint of gold  
And earth began again to breathe