Wednesday, September 15, 2010

colored hill spreads
an ocean of sand
raked into frozen
bushes, interspersed
enchanting form or the disjointed
out over the plain

raw desert, man is seldom
the horizon, no farm or wind
catch land. The feeling is intensified
by the littlest sound--the faint
dry scrub, the whisper
nowhere

the desert reveals the arrival

No comments: