Singing Sand

i waft along
this cloud of dust
in empty clement skies

a drusy sun sets
streaks of ruby
citron fire
reach on across the land
like lonely nights
in soft sahara

the mountains gain a shade of haze
as echoing winds whisper
with the stoic cries of crickets
in a muted droning lull

twilight bends
beyond eye’s edge

the deepest blue lapis sets in

contentedness
we once possessed

lies trapped behind the silent veil
no map had e’er descried

through layers of lamenting torment

seething of her phantom cilice

ceaseless

in a listless cause
of indolent demise

[image credit: Bud Duncan]

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

2 thoughts on “Singing Sand”

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