"I feel the windstorm's violent thrust / I feel the sting of sand and dust / As bit by bit, and year by year / New features on my face appear." Mojave by Diane Siebert.

"Fence posts trudge away toward the divide / sinking into wind-drifted earth / as they guard the border to what's left / of a man's spring dreams / withered wheat and sun-scorched thistle." Survivor by Philip J. Burgress

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