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.