In the Middle, Elephants
The sky is dry.
A terracotta riverbed winds by.
A bird flys upwards from the bone-white tree.
The shadows snake and sweep majestically
and everything is scorched.
A landscape parched and beautifully torched,
it stands alone.
Silk dunes as red as turmeric are thrown
against the vast and arid sky of blue.
And, in the middle, elephants pass through.
A trek against the heat.
A slow and steady moving of the feet.