The stones are bleached
bones in the sun,
their curved tops rising
like the ribcages of whales
from the sand.
Wind scours the stones
here in this high lonely place
and lizards sun themselves
on the stones.
There are hollows on the ground,
made by women’s knees
as they bend to weep and pray
and place flowers in coffee cans
filled with water.
In time, the wind will fill
these hollow places
with sand.
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