Halls of the Dark Muse

Desert Dreams

Dust hovers
masking the sky red
the wind howls
a low sound
whispers in the ears
dance upon the sands
in shadows that don't
exist.

The wasp floats
with a steady buzz
skirting around rain drops
so very rare.

Sun above
with a steady glare
clouds only in dreams
and songs sung
of no place called home.

Grit within the eye
blurry the vision
slowly breaking down
in the haze of air.