African Eternity

by Maureen M. Smith

A leafless and gnarled acacia tree
curls over  rippled sand,
as if to say, I am watching you and have been
for an eternity.
The sand never speaks,
knowing it is older than the tree
and holds like a motherís breast
the moisture for its roots.
Far away a mirage flickers,
the  strand of light
waves goodbye, 
disappears into infinity.

© 2003 by Maureen M. Smith. All rights reserved.