Saturday, April 30, 2011
Desert Of Mills
The close horizon became from the desert of mills,
The bronze dunes worked hard in the storm of sand.
This absolutely became the edge of the world,
To signal a light for never land crept on this flower
Causing signatures of splendour, petals opening.
Parallel lines forked in different ways,
In the middle of actresses and actors,
Touch taunted the mistresses of the desert-wind.
Staring into the scene of distant echoes,
A proposition suggested food and drink
For the nomad of the scene, a real way of knowing.
The mills turned according to dust and weather,
Feeding the metallic men with their monster.