xposted to 100poems

what rough beast

urgency long forgotten,
through a wasted landscape
we plod, a sullen army
with a single voice.
our footsteps avalanche the dunes,
scar the standing sand waves.
our weary tanks drag behind,
rubbed raw by millions of tiny grains.

thunderheads amass.
rats on pogo sticks, wearing samurai armor,
fight battles on behalf of dying gods.
one screams his death, bleeding
into that dry ocean.

a crow stands alone, tapping
his great beak against a stone
the sky cracks open,
rain pours down.
momentary rivers begin to run.