The Shades of the Sand
by Alea Droker Issue Two: Poetry
Photo by Glowing Mantis
Dry shades murmur blindly from cusps and ridges.
Beetles tremor in their iridescence, waiting from the ash.
Tonight, the glowing moon casts her glance aside
while the mountains in the desert have a word with the shadows.
As the meeting begins, the stars dim
in respect of the dark that this parched heaven maintains.
" I don't ask 'what makes Iago evil'
I know my love; no one stands to gain anything. "
Fireflies blink omens to the listening plain.
Mountains tolerate fireflies because they shudder their glow
into the shadows, a mood lighting.
Other insects hide themselves
amongst the primroses, knowing not to speak
in the presence of the rocks. Mountains of the sand
aren't moved by the tales of a hot day.
So, no one cries for a celebration in the desert.
Dry lives simply love the cloak of the shadows.
" The million dollar prize, tasting the fruit of each possibility
And remaining unscathed by other sides. "
The moon, her face still turned away from the night
remains unable to bring light to whether
these mountains caught the shadows,
or if the shadows caught the mountains.
The barren wild is hardened.
" One lit cigarette in the neighbor state will fertilize forests
Yeah, my cousin sometimes gets caught in the nook of a weekend. "
The halo of morning buzzes beyond the mountains,
a heliocentric plea to bring the clarity of dawn.
Unkindly, the morning offers light to those on the outskirts
from the center of the universe.
Even the deer mice disregard that far reach of the sun,
burrowed from under the sand.
The desert rocks talk on with the shadows, singeing,
ready as always to ignore moderate advice.
" Oh, I know how bad this ridge needs a darkness
Your shadows will always break the way back down. "
All outcomes of the night are taken
in stride: temperate, sweltering, subzero.
Desert creatures rest as the meeting comes to an end.
The mountains bring life to the darkened plains,
where swollen shadows barely peak
behind the bluff of some greater day.
Alea Droker is a writer and PhD student currently residing in Las Vegas, Nevada. She researches gender-diverse motherhood and labor-activism in speculative and science fiction literary environments, curious to understand why the role of motherhood is depicted in those genres with increasing frequency.
