Every tree looks black in the dying light.
Fire in the burn pit can’t keep up and
reduces to smoldering ash. We watch
from opposites shores of the Nile. I on the
East, you on the West. You try to wave,
to tell me you’re safe, but I can’t see
you right now. Night has overtaken
this desolate desert in ancient shadows.
The same shadows that took Khufu, and
Ramses, and you, will take me too,
someday. Every tree will look black
in the dying of the light.
Tia Cowger is a graduate of Eastern Illinois University. A poet at heart, her work has been published in Eastern’s literary journal The Vehicle, Toe Good, Gone Lawn and others.