The mirage of you.

The wetlands of
your oasis
turned into
the sands of Casablanca.
Wind blown
was the water
that drowned the flies
that caressed your Sahara.
While I nursed the stars
against a desert sky,
the camel train’s shadows
covered your mirage.
The echoes from you
played through date palms
was the desert song
I heard flying high
on the sun’s rays.
Still I wonder
under the signature
of the moon:
Who will undress
your pyramids tonight?

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

Andrew, you've written a stellar piece here. I adore it. A thousand superlatives would fail to compare. Many blessings, my friend!

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you Dear Kelly, nice to have you visit, delighted. Hope you and yours are well.