In the Sand

Illustration for the poem "In the Sand" by Robert Lutz

I need to wander along
the path, walking stick
in my hand.

The sun followed me across
the sky, dried fruit
my only nourishment.

Splinters from the wood in
my flesh, worn-down leather
covered in sand.

I curse the stick for
its weight, heavy burden
of my establishment.

As I carry it through
the crowd, dark blood
colors my hand.

But then I look into
the future, walking stick
in my hand.

I refuse all help from
now on, I put my head
in the sand.

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