He tucked a cigarette behind his ear and stared at the blinding sand and the sad, blinding, dead-end strip of sand stared back
It knew it would win in the end
I watched his boot trace a silly amoeba, then dot a couple of eyes with the toe
and the sand stared back
There’s a silence in the country that pierces deep and dark and fills unsuspecting hearts with historical grief from hundreds of years of spilled blood and screams and ripped out hope
‘Stay here and suffer’ the silence begged. ‘Let it eat you alive, this soul stabbing pain’
He let the old rage come in and fill his body with pulsing red He felt a high pitch of keening sorrow as it pushed aside the rage
it stabbed his lungs
He fell to the sand, the eternal sand
the wondrous grounding of soul came to quiet
He dipped a finger into the sand and tasted grit tasted salt tasted what was
what is what will be
the beating of his heart remains connected to the sand
He felt dizzy and heard a drumbeat of the elders passing him a mantle
in the passing of a low rider
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