There was no view

through hours of wind

a banshee shrieking

at every window

the sand made inroads

reclaiming the house

demanding a return

to unbroken desert

we pick our way through

slipping on grit

buried under grime

navigating roads

with encroaching dunes

breathing air

laden with sand

uncovering choked trees

and gardens – Caroline A. Slee

Buried

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