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First Light

First Light

 

Cold sand sifts the sunrise

as camels stir and snort

beside the caravanserai

travellers greet the dawn

 

Cicadas start a rasping chirp

in rhythmical polyphony

as zephyrs rustle oasis trees

the tuareg eat and yawn

 

Blue men sing soft as the wind

of their ancient berber laments

secure fine silks and pillars of salt

with camel leathers tightly drawn

 

Traders resume the ancient flow

light pace of beasts of burden

eyes peering out at the fireball's rise

over dunes the train now gone

 

Swords a-glint in long robes flowing

the Sahara's free men slowly

with faces veiled they set their minds

to the next step, and on, on, on, on . . .

 

Chris Hubbard. 2020

🌷(6)

◄ A Crystal Ball

The Listener ►

Comments

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Chris Hubbard

Fri 6th Nov 2020 07:24

To Stephen (A) and A.S. , thank you for your interest in my slice of Saharan life. While I've never been there, the very first pencil portrait I made, now many years ago, was of a Tuareg tribesman, taken from a National Geographic magazine photograph,

I've always had a soft spot for the shape and majesty of the great dunes found there, and the courage and power of the people who make their living within it.

Magical!

cheers,

Chris

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Chris Hubbard

Wed 4th Nov 2020 10:11

To Jennifer, Paul, Jordyn and Stephen,

Once again, many thanks for your support of my poetic efforts.

As Clive James pointed out: once bitten and you're a "lifer".

Chris

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