As the sun tilts over the sandy dunes
Making its final exit for the night,
I listen to how the blowing wind croons
It lamentation of the fading light.
Two camels carry a family home,
Guided by their Bedouin caretaker.
The sunlight silhouettes the way they roam,
Giving the dying light to their maker.
It’s a simple picture of black and white
Only seen in the world on a corner,
And though we can connect with their respite,
We like to claim that they are foreigners.
Can we not find ourselves in this landscape,
Thinking it too Oriental to escape?
John Collings 