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Desert Dreams
Dust hovers
masking the sky red
the wind howls
a low sound
whispers in the ears
dance upon the sands
in shadows that don't
exist.
The wasp floats
with a steady buzz
skirting around rain drops
so very rare.
Sun above
with a steady glare
clouds only in dreams
and songs sung
of no place called home.
Grit within the eye
blurry the vision
slowly breaking down
in the haze of air.
8:57 AM - 5/14/2008 -
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