The wash after the storm
Soggy
Runnels, ruts, and caves
Where the bubbly brown
Instant river ran
The smell of mud and death
A thousand corpses
Washing to lower ground
Butterflies, grasshoppers, wasps
Bees, horse flies, spiders
Stones rearranged in new patterns
Like dead butterflies in the wind
Stones large and stable landmarks
Disappeared
Beneath the sand or
Carried to a new place
Stones collision-cracked
By other stones
A thousand years of colliding stones
Will make a bed of sand
Before a force so powerful
A sealed tomb lies
Vulnerable as a desert wash.