Alan L. Winters
I see a branch of driftwood
Appear then disappear
In a brief and subtle breeze
That ripples ‘cross the land
Like a magician’s slight of sand.
The fine grains carve the mountains
And polish granite cliffs.
Snake like ridges undulate
As patterns gently shift
And desert grasses vanish
In the sand dune’s evening drift.
©Copyright March 23, 2010 by Alan L. Winters
Photograph ©Copyright 2010 by Alan L. Winters