Sandscape

Sandscape

I

Vast plains of sand,

Stretching to my right, to my left,

In front of and behind me.

I know not east, west, south, or north.

II

White sand,

Glittering and made of black

Brown, and gray grains.

Dull, but bright,

Soft textured under foot,

And at the same time hard.

III

Great nothings of sand

Broken by puddles of water;

Some dark, dank, stagnant;

Some clear and inviting,

Mirrors in the sun

Beckoning the thirsty with pleasure,

But too shallow to be scooped and drank,

Little more than drops of dew.

IV

Great distances of sand,

Unmeasured and free.

Feet moving but still

The sandscape fails to change

And offer help, relief, a sanctuary.

Had I sat, I would still be

Where I am -

Nowhere.

But trails of footprints shooting out behind me

Are a monument to my wasted energy.

So I sit

And close my eyes to hide them from

The scenery of nothingness.