Sailing Stones

Dry lake under desert sky.
Stones lie still in the fading light.
No wheel marks.
No footsteps near.
Only lines that shouldn't be here.

No feet.
No hands.
No one there.
Still the stones move
through the desert air.

Sailing stones,
slow and low.
Nobody sees them
when they go.

Shallow water.
Freezing night.
Thin ice forms before first light.
Morning wind begins to rise.
The desert moves beneath the ice.

No feet.
No hands.
No one there.
Still the stones move
through the desert air.

Sailing stones,
slow and low.
Leaving a trail
wherever they go.

Years without moving.
Then one cold night.

By morning,
the lines are new.

No feet.
No hands.
No one there.
Still the stones move
through the desert air.

Sailing stones.
Silent ground.
Moving slowly
without a sound.