Saturday, May 23, 2015

The Camel's Shadow



The midday sun, a ceaseless predator
And everything with breath becomes its prey.
With heavy steps, a trek in Thermidor
until caught in sudden wind-borne foray

in fiery sands the camel's kneel, hip to breast
a toughened wall as glassy razors blow
Men found scant cover and a blessed rest
beneath the Camel’s shadow; where fears grow

amid fiercest howls, prayerful maroons
await the songs of gently wind-kissed sands
in quiet peace, to glyph the wavy dunes.
A paradox of dark and frigid lands,

in moonlit breaths the silvered vapors rise
'neath Camel’s shadow, men and beasts, close eyes

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