The forest first dried inside me
The river turned into stone
The sky became barren
The earth fallow
Desert spread
soaking up every dropp like blotting paper
Every shape tumbled onto its roots,
I had crossed a sand bridge there
before putting it into words
A green shoot dried under my feet
A memory – just touched – became sand
My footprints disappeared
Crazed hot air whirled about
unravelling breath from my lungs
Past days are saved in spider webs
in the outer mirrors of the inner world,
Hopes lie around with broken spades
Sew a patch
on the torn fringes of the day
so that a door may open
This century has lost its way
in the dark lane of time
With eyes open I see
this world, all around
words turn into dust
First inside me
the sand storm has struck