Kalahari
Call to me, Kalahari
beckon me to come near
into your arms red and dry
in the heat
I lay my head down
I hear
your raspy bass song
singing like the blues
played out in the desert air
desiccated
deserted
wandering
for forty years or
maybe an eon
my ribcage pauses
a stop in its constant motion
outward and inward
inspired movements
and holding my breath
I listen
Call to me, Kalahari
and I will come
Pamela Olson, 4/5/09
prompt, “Listening”
and Read Write Poem’s prompt
“a little introspection, or 50-word pick up”
