The wind blows

Sahara Sand

clear across the Atlantic

and deposits it

grain by grain along the way

until it finally ends its journey

here

of all places

 

Sahara sand aggravates the sinuses

and aggravates the citizens

who now have watery eyes

and scratchy throats

and have to wash their cars again

 

to think

that sand from the Sahara

which felt the hooves of camels

and holds the antiquity of time

could end up here in Texas

is remarkable

 

will this land of little rain

become a desolate desert as well

we see its footprints creeping closer

 

sand falls from the sky

water tables sink

our desert blooms with traffic

this poem is a mirage.