Sand

Such a granular history,

This embroidered occupant of thirty-three percent

Of earth’s surface.

Minuscule particles of yesterday,

An unbounded and eternal testimony

Of life’s tapestry of remnant evolvement.

Such quivering of heat’s echoes

Moves into undulating waves of sky reflections,

A trickery into mirages of false safety.

A sky of coppered miasma

Creates sight-conjured twists and dancing

Into a burning labyrinth,

Often without tiring,

Often bending light into grotesque and frightening visions.

Such dust plays hide and seek with the aged dead,

An amorphous enigma

The counterpart of people’s trampling below.

Such becomes…

The handful of Earth’s ancient time machine

Seeking solace in one’s hourglass of aging.