Dry deserts in the fading light

Rosy above on the balçon

Golden is the smooth flesh of the people

And the wind in the palm fronds down by the river

Thousands of years ago.

Sand traced eddies in the bank,

Slow and dark shadows of green river plants

In the careful evening

The alone evening

In the fading light and the white sky

Sands stretching out before them the color of their own flesh

And dark eyes, dark dark as the dead.

One woman kneels

Alone, long long ago

A ghost now

Eyes like the tomb

Skin rosy with the setting

Hair a black unfathomable cloud around her

Mysterious eyes like death in the shadows

And time long long gone

Languages faded

Leaving marks on old stone

Old stone crumbles to sand

Old bones crumble to sand

In the sandy waste

Only water marks the breath of long gone life

Cryptic designs on the sand

She kneels there, on the edge of the bank

Bird noises, wind noises

Alone now with the evening shadows and the river

Vivid like a dream

And faded with the morning

Viola voice soft and fathom

Takes voice of woman

Singing, ancient, dreaming, gone

Spirit woman, dead

Tombs, death

Kneeling there by the bank hugging her tawny body

Smelling of the past

Eyes black like the sea

Falls there on the bank

Cries eyes of ocean

Cries eyes of time