Sandblast
Taste the wind
Stale sirocco bleached
Dry bones cast their fortunes
Tarot of the desert
Dunes twist and distort
Crabs crawling the bed of a dried-out sea
No peace here
Even oases stand uneasy
We are incongruous
Like astronauts treading moon dust
Sacrifices made to be here
And for what?
This place is a mausoleum
Dust on a broom
Sand sweeping harshly
Interring
Disinterring
Eyes stay closed
This power drinks moisture
Scrabbles for even the rankest sweat
No atom is immune
© Copyright David Burne, August 2012, Control. All rights reserved.