Broken

the marquee of dreams
in the theatre of my mind
ripe with false promise

summer rain-
the blind
desert sands

Missing

forced conversation-
a glance at his empty chair
then awkward silence

oddly quiet-
the azure sky
free of birds

Petrichor

angry thunderclouds
lurking on the horizon
heavy with cold rain

summer afternoon-
the scent of rain
fills the air

Detritus

washing off the day
a trail of discarded clothes
strewn out behind her

disturbed reverie-
on my journey
an empty snake skin

Ice King

reaching for you as
just beyond my memory
you slip from my grasp

withered leaves-
parched soil runs
between my fingers

Mirage

the heat off your skin
bending the air and making
my resolve waver

desert sands-
shimmering water
in the distance

Collection

melting chips of ice
droplets chase my finger down
the small of your back

a distant tor-
morning dew bends
the desert grass

Fire

a guttering flame
struggling to hold the wick
before going out

roiling clouds-
searing winds blow
the grasslands ablaze

Somnolent

the hum of the road
whispering it’s lullaby
rocking me to sleep

empty conch shells-
a rush of warm surf
overcomes me

Dust

a banging screen door
the ghosts of conversations
echo in the wind

merciless sun –
the empty ring
of wind chimes