Delonix regia

In the chill morning air, moisture-heavy,
the sun peaks over the scorched red dust,
throwing soft pinks, bright yellows,
and flower reds into the scant clouds
until the wavelengths straighten out
and the flames die back into a flawless
blue sky.

In the dry afternoon air, sharp with UV,
the ground smells like kindling, 
ready to burst with fire at any moment,
but vegetation is sparse these months,
just the meager poincianas scattered
across the yard, its flowers still blooming
each day.