#193 A Day at White Sands by Roy Beckemeyer

As the brash sun
lifts the edge of night,
dunes stretch and yawn,
their contours blushing
as they awaken…

the morning sun climbs
overhead like
a rocket, its hot exhaust glazing
the sky into porcelain
as white as these sands…

the dunes become
crouching chameleons,
hiding their round fullness
in the noon sun…

a single scarab
scratches her way
across a smooth, sloping
dune, embossing
intricate calligraphy
into the sifted sand:
a message to be read
by the slanting sun
of evening…

dune islands rise,
their shores lapped
by moon-shadow seas.

Roy Beckemeyer, of Wichita, Kansas, has traveled over much of New Mexico.  A retired engineer, he launched rockets at White Sands Missile Range in the 1980’s.  He has recently had poems published in Begin Again: 150 Kansas Poems, Coal City Review, and the Kansas Renga: To the Stars Through Difficulty.

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