Desert

There is no palette

just a deep red of the earth

a featureless black of loose rocks

the woody pale yellow of spinifex

a clear hue of the wind, whistling

embracing the relief, a shadeless

hard (brutal) loneliness of the landscape

dry country inhabited   (deserted)

without ancestors roaming around

smells of nothing 

just an infinite sky

and a faraway horizon 

subtle lizard tracks leading somewhere 

an empty dirt road 

with no signs nor direction.

September 2025

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Remains