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.

Illustrated by Phyllis Luch