Sandblast

shifting sands
the wind blowing
and sun melting
grains to glass

Standing still
overtaken by the dune
an ocean wave of grit
ripping off my skin

and it leaves
exposed to the sun
and elements
in a valley of silicon

Just when I am
finding a path . . .
I can see the horizon
the dune coming back

I have two choices
run along uncertain paths
or reopen the wounds
And enjoy the pain