Harmattan

Your are the breeze
That steals from us our greeny lea
And tells the flowers to close their eyes.
You are the wind,
That steals our tears before we cry
And paints the grass a golden brown.
Apollyon. Apollyon.
Have you done this thing to us?
Have you breathed your breath on us?
Have you sent our death to us?
You have licked up morning
Dews
Like a kitten licks its paws
And left our faces                           white
And and noses                                 damp
Harmattan. Harmattan.
Latching parching                        tropical snow
Hovering blowing, draughty dusty
She is my tropical snow.