A Dusty Last Day

Lying on my back in the soft, shifting sands.
Such a beautiful day this turned out to be!
At sunrise, the sky was overcast and bleak.
Now fluffy clouds float by in the baby blue sky as if drifting on the sea.

A soft breeze feels good upon my sweating brow,
Filtering through the exposed strands of hair.
My head encumbered with a troublesome weight,
I unsnap my chinstrap to allow the exuberant flare of cool gusty air.

Refreshing as it may be, my body still boils deep.
I raise my hand up towards the sun to shade my eyes.
Only for a second, for I grow so tired and relaxed.
To slumber awaits a deceitful prize for only one desperately aware survives.

I shift my head to the left and let my helmet roll away,
And catch a glimpse of distant dunes, but too bright to stare.
Slowly turning back to the right, I scan through the scattered debris.
There, in billowy black smoke, sits a barren old truck sheared beyond repair.

With shattered windows, bent and blackened doors,
Shredded canvas fluttering in the unsteady waves.
So silent, just the sound of cloth brushing together.
A clear autumn day, bright leaves rustle across forest trails, my dreamy mind strays.

Faintly a howl sounds in the distance, a wind approaching through the trees,
My dream is shattered, now I’m covered in sand and ash.
In daze I shift back towards the truck where troop carrier stands in a busted heap,
One man escaped the burning van, but now lay asleep at last on burning gas.

Sounds of foray are hard to hear, with rattling in my head and blood in my ears.
I need to get up and make a go, but my body shakes, I feel so cold.
The rattling stops, no sounds I hear.  I’m all alone in dismal fear.
The sky is dark, so is the road.  This one won’t be growing old.