Outside, the wind puts the tree at odds
And grains of sand engulf its shadow.
Inside, grains of sugar fall to the table
While he tries to find the book.
She runs through the storm,
Her shaken voice like bells through the air.
He finds the book, and sits down to read
While the sand whips at his sturdy window.
On her determined flight
Her steps never waver
By chance, he looks out of his safe house
Into the dusty hell beyond its walls
She sees the wispy outline of a house on a hill
And relief fills her heart.
He opens the door, and she collapses inside
Now she can rest.