Scarlet, heavy, soggy
I dry it on my window sill.
Brick-coloured powder I fill into
A test glass, putting a stopper in.
Turn the tube tentatively:
Landslide on the inside,
Crags on the landscape’s surface,
Coastlines crashing into the sea.
Give it a shake:
A sandstorm in the desert,
Hot winds make the clouds
Blush, obscuring my tracks.
With water I shape it,
With fire I burn it,
A breeze just blows the dust away.
© jsmorgane (Jan 10)