Sand catches in my hair

my eyes water

with the wind.

All I can do

is travel in inches

for if I fall

into the dunes

my ankles and wrists

become bound

by blister.

I arrived in this desert

like a guest without a gift;

my eyes scan horizon

for a host

with no name.

I must wait

until nightfall

when the hot white sand


and I can at last see

where the solar dip


to make way for

the lunar dance

on a starlit floor.

For now

I shade my face

I howl

into the heat of day

and I move

at a crawl

ever forward.


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