Red Desert

The dust will lie
infinitely blown,
in seasons of
salmon pink.

.
Polished only by
the sherbet dusts
of time, the rocks
will sit inertia.

.
Marvel at the arid
backdrop of silence.
Eerily beautiful,
desolately virgin.

.
At night the crimson
horizons will shine,
with stars carpeting
the red desert sands.

.
©Jacqui Slade

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