Jan 31, 2007 16:11
An electric heat makes waves in the air between horizons
giving an illusion of movement in the desert of my mind.
Not even a carrion bird bothers searching here
for the scraps of what was once living.
Grains of thought bake under a microwave sun
and you stand tall and unblinking--
my shelter for as long as you will have me.
Unbelieve able that anything could stand
on the shifting sands of my musings.
I try my hand at your door.
You elusive devil! You mirage!
I've nearly overcome my thirst anyway.
But why would you stay here
when there is no water to quench yours?