Flung like a fairy tale;
All is well;
Two man caravan
Doing what they can-
Drifting East
Feasting on sand;
Imaginary sand mines,
No, not land mines;
Drifting along the land.
The moon still hitches rides
On the cool Gobi skies
Carries it over this sand crater
Then lures it back lovingly
Much, much later.
Stars as multiple as cars
In New York City;
In this vast desert city;
Ursa Major in the West-
Sure is pretty.
Unknown animals
Echoes in the desert dunes
Passers- by looking for a free ride;
All slaves to Gobi's moon.
Desert fire burning in the night
Just a fraction of friction
On the whole of Gobi's light;
Warm my hands
The wind whistles tunes
Such am I slave;
A slave to Gobi's moon.
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Wonderful words. I love it when I can feel a post and I certainly felt this poem. Thanks and Write on...
