Solitary Pilgrim Poem by Peter Swan

Seated in the Sahara Desert
Contemplating.
Wishing the world flat.
All human life is just a wish
Carried by the wind.
All plant life consumed by fire.
I scatter the ashes.
I have a flower from a field in Iran,
dried in a book for posterity.
I have a cup with a dropp of water
Saved from the Indian ocean.
I am a solitary pilgrim.
Sat here on this dead ground.
Slowly gravity erodes the earth,
whittling it down to an apple core.
Spinning on the axis, I begin to crumble,
And from all around me I here laughter.