Swallowed by the dark,
cold sands slither
far beyond
the car’s
feeble beams-
which jut past
perilous plummets,
dimly illuminating
boundless summits
of saffron, ochre,
and apricot.
We snake past
time-tiered
mountain tops
while stars
puncture
the dark’s
thick shroud of
sable night
and whispy cloud.
We park,
clambering out into
the biting wind and
arcane silence,
loitering only
for a moment,
hurried by
the rapacious
dark’s need
to feed on
everything.
pm poetry 