Sand Song of the Siren

L.T. Garvin

She walks in beauty

or rather

she once ran

through the scorching farm fields

heavy with crops

Look at me,

she would say

swarthy, twiglike, silky hair

her brain lit

with chemical combustion

She rescued him

in the desert

poured drinks of rainwater

plied his truths

with drunken lips and lies

He ran blindly

haunted by her aura

incited by her call

but beauty’s path is fickle

she landed full circle

in arid terrain

enveloped with rocks and cacti

He with his tools of the trade,

and sand shovel

never uncovered

her whispered magic

her beautiful dreams

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