Of Sahara

by Andrea Wyatt

Of the bow and the clearing                                                
of the granary and the spear

of Sahara
    in naked beauty more adorned

with bark and resin
with hide and horn
move across the primal rock
the ancient and eroded tableland
of our heart

we are on the rim of the desert                                  
   a barren waste and wild of sand

looking
(not the american vision east to west)
but southerly
from the encircling shore of dunes
to the rim of Sahel
the dry zone

hide and horn, blood and bone of cattle
dug deep into the small scratched fields
of sorghum and millet
of cotton, rice and yams

quickly planted and harvested
in the shrinking seasons
down through the rainforests
of orchids and baboons
down across the savannah
the endless herds of antelopes and zebra
the tectonic plunge
down into our dream selves
a resonance of sound
we cannot hear
pitched high and keen
across the vast lands
of flat plains
caught tight
in the burn of youth