Nestled in the ochre dune
I came upon a skull covered
and uncovered by the sands
that trickled down the sloping face,
first alerted by gyres
of birds to its resting place.
The carcass is long gone
and now frantic ants gnaw
at drying skin, and where
the desert mists deposit their dew
in the makeshift bowl,
minute creatures come to sip and chew
under the devouring shadow
of the eagle owl’s claw:
and wind and rushing sand
finally complete the ruin
as bones disengage and dissolve
completely the skull’s once mindful grin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Even after death we are still able to support life in some form. I enjoyed your poem Charl..