Saturday, April 22, 2017

Poems and Prose #160 - Gobi

The desert wind
slaps my face,
as hot sand granules
sting me like mace.

Standing in this
alien place,
I glance at my footprints
as they're slowly erased.

Now I kneel down
into the sun's grim embrace,
and start digging a hole
for myself, just in case.