desolate.

I saw some hundred sheep yesterday
herded
by two Bedouin
people of the sand and wind
nomadic
without a house
but constantly at home
possessions strapped
to backs
donkeys.

they must carry their dreams
in the palm of their hand.

there is nowhere
so expansive
as the crevices of skin
hardened by wind sun and sand
so desperate
as a need for freedom
that drives you
further into the desert every year
farther from civilization
farther from necessity
farther from comfort and excess.

there is nothing as desolate
as the heart of a killer
in a land full of empty riches.

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Copyright 2005 -- Scott Kirkpatrick -- All Rights Reserved
May not be used in whole or part without written permission of the Author