Dust from the sand blows across the plain

And emptiness I feel snows me like a train

Barrelling down from tracks yet embedded

Simply - laying on the ground - unsteadied 



For the spikes needed to be driven home

To hold tracks in place, are in heart alone

Where they were hammered by torment

When lost love initiated current lament



And now that pain sucks through the holes

Left by the nails which rusted my very soul 

As the tumbling weeds constantly pass me by

And the beauty I felt before now leaves me dry ...



- Tristram



Christopher W. Thomas

1:25pm Sat. Feb. 21st, 1998