Man Walks

Pyramids dancing softly dancing in the faint
light the moon gives the dry, bleak desert
Further to the north is the city (if you
can call it this) It has a couple of
shacks and a well from which to
drink.
Inside a woman in dark homespun clothing
sits on a rocking chair, knitting
and rocking, occasionally glancing
up to listen to the wind’s howl outside
her wooden door, and hear the
sand beat against her windows and
walls.
A man walks in. All is silent. He has
a beard of black and eyes almost as
dark. He carries an axe. The woman
stops her knitting.
A kettle is boiling. A baby is crying.

Man Walks

brupert

Joined January 2010

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Artist's Description

Poem

Artwork Comments

  • shootback
  • brupert
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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