Sea of Gold

A sated sea of golden sand
lays quiet in the shimmered sun,
its waves gently rolling in the breeze,
to coat the lungs of lazy air.

Drifting, wafting, oh so slowly
to make its way to new horizons,
drowning little bits of life
to sleep in its dirty depths.

Rise and fall, breathe and billow,
it sings a sailors song;
grow and rush, glitter and gall,
it drips its yellow spray.

New day, same day,
its image never changes,
always the same frothy tune,
never a speck of fresh.

Rolling, blowing, never caring,
existing in a tranquil rut;
dry and extant, barely present,
a desert life for me.