Standing on a crest of sand

Among a sea of grains

Streetlights within dim

Beneath the shadows of buzzards

–

Staring outward,

Inner skylines turn to cartwheeling dust

Strewn across the mute dunes

In their hellish solitude

–

The city’s burial is swift

Carried off by sandstorms

Rearranged and reclaimed

Beneath a trail of vagabonds

–

Dredged up again

By each newly afflicted soul,

Forging a maze

For their secreted sorrows