In the mirage
Ripples rise before my eyes
The standing noon sun heat dries
Beads of salt sweat on my forehead
Leaving me heatstroke weak as I tread
In the ravine, a winding snake path intensifies
Following a sand mouse lengthwise
A rodent’s fate demise
I ponder the tan path to the tragic end
In the mirage
A fan palm hides rock art mysteries
A spear thrown ripples past a prize
Landing short of red rock bloodshed
A hunter stands apart from his band;
Defiant brave friend
I sit alone too stoic on my perch of granite gneiss
In the mirage
© 2017 – 2018, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.
