I hear nothing
only the rush of the wind by my ear
and the calls of the birds
that cross beyond my sight.
nothing to see but the parched brown
of the earth
and a sky, blue as a sapphire sea.
There are no raindrops
no clouds,
nothing green,
nothing that stands.
Nothing grows here.
then why did I?
layer by layer,
bone on bone,
frown by frown,
question on questions.
Rooted — where none is buried,
yet,
here I am.