
The Mummy
(My titles aren’t that subtle. They’ve always been direct much like my poetry. So, you can tell what this is going to be about.)
I walk into the heat
With scraps and sweat
My protection from the sun
I feel the sand
Compact beneath my feet
Irritating grains
Slipping between my toes
Yet I continue on
Into the harshness
Designed to kill all fools
The dunes roll by
Moving in the haze
Acting like the sandy backs
Of hibernating turtles
I ignore the dryness
Enveloping my skin
And swelling of my tongue
My search drives me
Like a lemming toward his doom
I hope to find my oasis
Hidden in the sand
A place of dreams
Where solace and peace
Are mine to hold
And the world will pass me by
Beautiful! I can’t help thinking of how the wilderness/desert often is a place of preparation. As you wrote, the harsh climate is the discerner of the wise or the foolish who attempt to traverse the area.
LikeLike
Thanks. 🙂
LikeLike
I think we all look for a place of peace even if we are not on the desert
LikeLike
True. Those are hard to come by.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well done, Charles.
LikeLike
Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person