DUST DEVIL


A grain of sand
Caught in the beginning of a wind
Swirling like a dream
Then another joins in the dance

The wind grows stronger
The sky turns pale
As thousands of grains of sand
Float through the air

The dust devil forms
Traveling in silence
Moving slowly in a procession
Across the dunes

There is a magic to this dance
Simple in its innate existence
Expanding upward hundreds of feet
Changing and opaque

The landscape absorbing
Piece by piece
As the wind dies down
The sand settles to its new home

Michael V Hechtman Copyright � 2001