FRESH OFF THE PAGE: dry spell

dry-spell

Death Valley, CA


dry spell

walking in a desert,
the heavy sun,
beating down, harsh,
burns and washes
all signs of life away;
then comes the wind,
dry and dusty,
carrying my thoughts,
like grains of sand,
to points unknown.

here I am wandering,
thirsty and bare,
drying up, withering, 
searching for an oasis
to open before me;
or even a mirage
would do now,
some hopeful illusion,
a shadow to chase
across the endless sand.

but my eyes only find
wide open horizon,
one line stretching
between the earth
and empty sky,
so blue and blinding,
dazzled but doomed,
lost here in its spell–
no going forward,
and still no way back.


Listen to this poem read aloud: