y dawn men turned North.
The druid notched these events
onto trunks that lead to deeper wood -
envisioned - silence, incantation;
the God found within the stone.

*

Once cradle of civilization -
now crucible, a sandstorm of tanks,
a battery of rocket-launchers
each one bright as a guiding star
slams home to its birth place, sand sprites
leap dervishly, limbs gad about,
horses buckle back upon themselves -
empty out like exhausted bellows.
A beggar (in nameless rags) calls
out in either prayer or curse to
the desert night first refuge for saints;
Cross and Crescent belch fire.

*

Forty thousand tons. Space
dust, diamond and sapphire, snips
of light, collect on earth yearly.
Dust breaks bread on our too dusty
planet; on our twice dusty planet;
on our overly dusty planet made
available to wind; dust breaks
down glaciers. Broken deserts from
sand storms deliver dinosaur dust,
highways loosen tyre dust, your
home a time capsule - our earth bent
dustward forsworn to decay.

*

A giallo antico moon framed
within cratered ruins. Country turned
up at the edges like a dirty postcard.
Poplars, broken spars of pine,
cypress. Dusty plane trees rubbed raw
by abrading tanks in the market
square. Two ambulances shoved aside.
Kabul. The Republic of Georgia's
snowy mountains [backdrop to some
desolate soccer field]. A few lean
men shouldering grenade launchers pass
by and grin, heading for the glaci