Day 12- Orshuck

 

We left footprints on the dunes and

Carved words with our fingers

In sand that filled our shoes,

But soon they would be gone.

We felt on our necks the

Glare of a desert sun

That parched the ground, squinted our eyes,

But soon it would be dark.

We marvelled at a vast horizon of

Shattered stone and scattered scrub,

Not knowing that behind it lay

The end to all horizons.

We wiped sweat from our brow,

Pacing slowly through air that

Hung, heavy and hot in our faces,

But soon we would be cold.

We lazed and horses grazed

And for a hundred miles there was

Silence enough to imagine hearing

The scratching of a black beetle on the mountain.

After it passed, we let go

The frame of the ger with a shudder of relief,

As if forgiven at last for a sin,

Permitted again to stretch, to laugh, to open

The door, to find the wind still threatening

Our eyes with the final scraps of dust

Left behind in a landscape

We had considered paradise.