When it was very hot
The lizard used to crawl up the rock beside me.
He would not move for long stretches of time.
I would stare at the huge mountains before us,
Then feel very small.
I would place my hand on the lizard
And he would move a little, then go still again.
And I, too, would go still again.
Such little things we were, the two of us,
Enfolded in all that incandescent grandeur.
~Alix Taylor