Somewhere back there
Are rows of streets
And houses—and one
That’s home.
But here are only
Miles and miles
Of sand the wind
Has pushed in piles,
Then run through with
A comb.
The dunes slope this way
To the sky
And that way
To the sea.
And in between
Is just more sand,
Miles and miles
And miles of sand,
And two white cranes—
And me.

[illustration] Illustrated by Phyllis Luch