"Shadows on the Desert" Verse by Marjorie Jerrell Ellis.

SHADOWS on the Desert

By Marjorie Jerrell Ellis When the long, low rim of hills Looks like blue paper, torn and pasted To a darkening Sky, I see a wagon train go by, It creaked its painful journey on this road, I know; I found a wagon-wheel, a baby's grave, And a broken rocking-chair.

When the long, low rim of hills is black, And the desert lighted only by the flash of secret fires, The Indians come, I hear the drum. Here were their dancing figures silhouetted on the rocks, I know; I found smoke-blackened pots and arrow-heads, And stone drinking cups.

When the long, low rim of hills is grey and warm, The desert wind stirs hotly and the palo verde Whispers stories old, Of men who hunted gold. A water-hole is what they sought, I know; I found their empty saddles, rusty weapons, And at last, their bleaching bones.