Yucca, rootbound porcupine, stands at attention. What are you guarding with your green quills straight as bayonets? Did you ambush the juniper with the camouflage needles? You creep across the canyon without tanks, refuel on sunlight. Your fruit swells with the summer rain. Clandestine plant, you emerge unexpectedly between sandstone rocks flecked with lichens copious as the spots on a young cougar. What secret do you oversee? When the nocturnal moth emerges from rosettes coated with pollen, do you stand at ease? No wind ruffles your stiff leaves as you stand sentry.