Desert child

I was born from the sand
and raised as a thorn
I drank in the sun
and worshipped the moon
The stars were my friends
and the snakes my enemies

The dusty dunes
like rivers flowed
across the dry rocks
burying them under time
casting only shadows
when the sun began to sink

And when the wind blew
I could hear the voices of my ancestors
calling my name
in-between the cries of the vultures
and the sting of the scorpion

With poison in my blood
and the scars of walking
on my feet
I lay down to rest
under the shade of the Baobab tree
and wait for the sand to take me home again.

© 2018 The Drummer Poet


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