Staggering movement with feet of lead,
In the Australian powder sand of red.
A tortuous red hell of shifting sands,
Where the skin slowly peels from his blistered hands.

Constant strain of footsteps deep,
Mind numb to the heat of searing feet,
In solemn thought for his distant bride,
As his steps scatter bones of those passed by.

Wandering the wilderness with diminished sight,
Eyes blinded in the suns burning light.
Aimlessly drifting from south to west,
Lost amongst the spinifex.

Through swollen tongue struggling for breath,
Longing for shade where his body can rest.
The irony of one parched and dry,
Beneath an endless cool blue sky.

Beguiling images of water everywhere,
Tormenting mirages that fade in the desert air.
His trek is ended, no longer with the sun to duel,
For his feet are wet in an oasis blissfully cool.

Nigel L. Spark
30/10/199

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