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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1047903
Landscape, without and within ...
Red


Red mounded dunes
windswept ripples here
smooth expanses there

Now the air was still
no sound
no whispers

And I was thirsty, oh so thirsty
my mind was fixed
on water

Every step I took upward
my feet on rusty sand
slid me back

I walked in place
sank down into
slow footprints

I uttered a plea
a prayer I suppose
to the motionless sky

And on the crest
of the highest dome
just in front of me

Lit a cardinal
as Red as fresh blood
and with no beak


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