Clima
Clima's cloak wrapped
Around your mountains
Sahara sand visits each peak
Hiding islands out to sea
Yellow sky makes a harvest moon
From the sun disc
Lost
So lost in fog
Sandy air clogs the throat
Wets the eyes
Longing for a storm
A lighthouse
A breeze to lift this clammy coat
From burnt skin
No senses left
Except the taste of salt
The desire for movement
Breaking waves
The pull of tide
To meet the shoreline
Stumbling through the rocks
Broken shells
Blistered feet
Wet Sand
Weed
Walking naked into the
Hands of the sea
