Desert

The land of desert,
the land of sand
blows in the eyes
and sifts in the hand.
And yet there we are,
esconced in a war
searching for Al Quaeda
in death's dusty door.
Pointless it seems
to civilian's screams.
Endless caves
in a barren land.
Beautiful poppies
for the Taliban
with ragged heads covered
to keep out the dust.
Uniformed soldiers,
who can they trust?
Suicide missions
in the sand.
Fear in the hearts
of Afghanistan.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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