Grains of Sand
For every grain of sand I seem to brush away;
I discover the dust brought by the drought;
Seeks to envelop and claim me as captive.
The stale unmarked steps sprays the grains of sand from the torrid desert floor to every crevice the dust has yet to claim.
Constained and released continually by the gales of this wasteland;
A mirage of rain comes to me as I lay prostrate in the grains of sand.
The captive that I am.
By Christy Teas
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