The climates

The sands will conceal the footprints

The winds no glory allow,

No air to trap the breathless heart

No exit from which to bow.

The soils that spurt growth

That the rains wash away,

The flakes that make a city

A source of urgency and delay.

The tale

When the tale is relayed,

Speak of the land we knew

Where fragments were precious

Where time took its pew.

Where footprints in sands were stolen by winds,

Where mornings of after held better things

Where soils heard of sorrows that hearts never knew

Where the memories of many were sealed by so few.