Sitting like a man
was a stone
atop a barren view.
Pink flowers
braving thirsty waterways
and painted boulders
on oath swear
that I am a moment
passing in your time.
I can only inspect
the betrayal of your timescape.
Hills with tongues
hanging out in the sky,
plains playing dead,
heat hurling fire in the shade
and men with burnt-out faith
search a cause to cry
and in tears kill sanity
that makes the difference
for a passing moment.
