Have you seen those desert eyes

Surely some burns breathed out the heat
Sun turning wheels clocks spinning sand
Sand storm slides made of desert clouds
Ending up in a single moment standing still
When eventually unnaturally nothing you think
Will ever eve morn move on
The desert of the Spiritus Movens
Motionless burnt in a beheaded lion roar
The carcasses flying above
I’d like to think something is going to happen you thought
But for this handy sky
Written up by too many hands
But for this sandy outpour
Slapping the holes of the storms
To force the snakes into their endless winding
I’d like to think something
But for these winged deceptions
Stuffed birds hunting up and down
Is eventually going to happen

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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