by Loyd Rawls

Created on: April 03, 2009

A Gentle Touch

The brown/gold diamonds undulate silently across the hot beige sand
leaving a soft mark where they moved in the receptive trace.
Ancient reptilian eyes speak no hate, no love
but watch for food and haven and threat.
The passage is as gentle as the touch an awestruck grandfather gives his newborn kin.
Pianissimo plays the off-and-on breeze.
The only witness is the disinterested hawk
Riding the thermals of the late afternoon sky.

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