saharan sands fill the skies
with a faraway silvery grey glow
shielding our skin
and the white caustic lime stone of our desert
from the penetrating rays of our sun
we are suspended in an other worldly respite
from the unforgiving radiance
emanating from the center of our local gyre
an explosive force reborn again and again and again
here in our piece of heaven
is muted enough just enough
to dream
—Lorena Wolfman
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