Cities have come up
We cease our wanderings
At the lights
The brooding pools of our camel’s eyes
Have lost the mystic slant
Asphalt roads rend the desert face
Warning signals hold menacing
Outlines of our die hard beasts
Our dawns no longer wake us well
But pull us to dreams
Inn shifting sand, we fear the ages coming by
Unable to relocate our camps
The flaps of tent torn
Lift in the wind
Flights of fancy, unsought, undesired
We stop at the lights