ETERNAL SAND

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  • phoenix29
  • been a member since 2008, under PHOENIX9 &29. PHOENIX is my writing name,.have over 150 poems here, trying to help the site if i can to be a great site for creative poets everywhere, read and help and comment those who need it.. anyone want to do challenges? let me know.

ETERNAL SAND

ETERNAL SAND

A hot wind with no relief sends dust devils high into the air, Swirls of sand in the early morn give the slightly blue sky a hue of dirty yellow,
The day would be dry with barely a wisp of a breeze,
Sand would shift and flow like a river, Between the buildings of the city, Half buried in sand, Half in ruins,
Drifting down loney roads, drifting over edges,
Making it easy for tumble weeds and trash to travel and collect, wandering the waste lands beyond,
Trucks drive by trying to make a path, Dirty windshields, Cracked, Tarps caked with sand in every fold, Windows tinted almost black. AC working double time,
Against an old building a pile of sand moves,
Coughs a few times, A face covered in shadow,
Invisable until he moves again, He slowly stands,
Sand falls from him as he slowly brushes himself off,
Thinking if he brushes to hard the sand and him will disappear,
Hands like aged leather, Dry and cracked,
Eyes behind dirty goggles peer out at the morning,
It's a new morning yet it's always the same morning,
Coughs and clears his throat, it too is dry and cracked,
Stretching he takes a slow step forward,
Coming out of the shadow into the sun, into the heat,
His long hair a sandy blonde like the sand,
His eyes light up through the goggles,
Bluer than any sky, Face etched by sand and time,
Rugged as if cut from stone by and unknown artist,
His trek takes him into town, Out to the outer edges
To the waste lands, Where wilderness has gone mad,
Leaveless trees sand blastered, Brown grasses with deep roots searching for moisture, Fighting to survive,
Rocks turning to stones turning into sand, He see's no change, nothing of interest, Shrugs his shoulders and returns to town, Stops by a small cafe for a drink,
A bite to eat, Steps back out and knows it's time to work, Futile as it is, By the corner of the cafe, leaning against the wall, rest his broom and shovel. A barrel on wheels, He grabs the handle and wheels it out,
He see's His life, Sweeping the sidewalks again,
Wondering why He can never get ahead, Everyday
He starts here and ends here, Everyday!
Everyday is the same day.......

Richard E. Cartledge   3/2/13    PHOENIX

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

phoenix29’s Poems (28)

Title Comments
Title Comments
PERFECT PITCH 0
NIGHTMARE 2
NEVER ENOUGH 2
THE GREATEST POEM EVER WRITTEN 1
ITS NOT ME 1
INTENSITY 0
INSIGNIFCANT 0
IM A COSMIC JOKE 1
I AM MADE OF LIGHT 0
HARSH WORLD 0
ETERNAL SAND 0
DEVOURED 0
DEATH BY LIFE 0
DEAD 0
CHARRED REMAINS 0
BEYONDE REASON 0
AYERS ROCK 0
ALL THAT I HAVE LOST 0
BLOOD AND CHAMPAGNE 0
HERE COMES THE CARNIVORES 0
ALL IN A SECOND 0
THE LAST CARNIVAL 0
is there a contest? not since 2010 0
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....MAJESTIC.
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2
DEAD EYES 0
EVERY 0
FLY 1
SAYINGS 0