Desert Moan.

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 In arid hush where whispers roam soft sand
the desert's silence wears a shroud so thin
its voice a ghostly echo bare and bland
tongues of dust quiet conversation spin.

In nature's script no tortured rhymes abide
nor flowery verses grace this arid tone
in stillness where splashed sun dark shadows hide
a desert's voice scorched dry and quiet moan.

Each grain a syllable that speaks of thirst
a parched confession in those shifting dunes
no need for flowers when hot wind's dispersed,
shush language of great sand hums quiet tunes.

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