POEM

Herald again the chirping dusty wind of the harmattan

The whirling sound of the dusty wind as it makes it way through the sahara

The sand dunes a pattern like zebra strips

The bright shining paths
Now a shadow of dust
Agazed is the blurry of the sun
As the eyes continuously searches for light

The waves strikes harder as the sky scrapers breaks it like a crushed meteorite

At night the blazing stars are a blurry gaze
And the moon a chapbook of light

The self seeking for warmth underneath the blanket
As the feet continuously scampers for it fair share of warmth

Hay it lay on surfaces
And swift the sand whisks upon any slight disturbance

A mercurial of a season indeed
Lo this is the pinnacle of it
The season of the wild whisky wind

Mya&Myself