Old Timbuktu

Here, vast empty sand seas surround
And ages ago salt, gold and ivory drew
Chakrii’s great grandfather to cross waters
Beyond the Sankalakhiri, on Saharan ways
Many thought each time he went
That Channarong might not return
Yet always he returned, bursting with tales
Of things glorious, kings and spires
Skies painted chalcedony and ruby
And still, his tales transform faces
By hilltribe campfires at night
In those calm and golden places
Where old men sit and dream

© 2015 S. Michaels
Along Silk Roads

image: tattoopictures.co and brentstirton.com

One thought on “Old Timbuktu

  1. Lovely! Right around the corner from our house, pitched on the sand among some scrubby trees, is a big traditional Bedouin tent where men – young and old – meet every night to drink coffee and share news and tales. Your beautiful poem captures both the excitement and the peace of their experience. Thank you!


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