Village Desert Poem by Ben Martell

Tumble weed rolls across
The hot and dusty tarmac
The red eyed traffic lights
Glare at the unused bare road

Snakes struggle to defeat the road
As the powerful sun beats down on their
Green scaly skin.

At the roadside, cactus's
Suck the harsh dry terrain
In hope of moisture,
But there hope is rarely found.

The old abandoned houses
Patiently wait to take in
Their next victim.

The tiresome trees,
Stripped from their leaves, dying
Sway in the warm breeze.

How could something so
Desolate seem so peaceful.