The City of the Dead
The wind blows clean
scouring in Sakkara, Necropolis of Memphis
gem of Upper Egypt.
The purity of sand and sky
maintained by late rising
in the twentieth century.
The titan walls reach from a sea of silica
crystalline grit of ground quartz
once drowned,
devoured by desert, now disgorged…
the mill of life having preserved
the germ of memory eternal.
Far from the light surge of
incandescent and florescent,
from the leavings of modern man
Sakkara rises again, for such as we to glory in…
Imhotep’s caress of stone, song of sand
Rises, as morning follows night,
Rises like bole of palm
stroking the cheek of Ra.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010
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