The Dervish
by Antoinette Treadway
Whirling in veils of sand
like some malevolent genie
swept in on bone-dry winds,
you called again
asking for help.
Your life has come apart.
You blame hysteric gyrations
on wobbly planets in transit.
Your blood’s roiled
by an unknown hand.
You’re the perfect prisoner
of celestial mathematics,
caught at the dark horizon,
as you try to navigate
the basic parabola of humanity.
Copyright © 2014 by Antoinette Treadway.