mud to dirt to dust,
lost desert in disguise.
At local bar, little bird’s panicked slurp,
suction-cupped high-heeled steps,
careless where predators lurk.
A sinking myth,
man’s ever-shifting sand.
The female form
floats supine on its surface,
but never takes a stand.
Lisa is the host for d’Verse’s Quadrille #133 asking us to take a stand. Join us.
Artwork: “Quicksand” by Ric Conn