08. DUST DEVILS

DUST DEVILS

I was riding ‘cross the desert
in the heat of a summer day
I saw seven whirlwinds twirling
slowly winding on their way

I saw seven whirlwinds twirling
across this unforgiving land
dust devils what they call ‘em
just wind stirrin’ up the sand

each one so high and slender
so elegant, so defined
though not a breeze was blowin’
way out there removed from time

one raised up a tiny tumbleweed
and spun it high in their in their caravan
you might swear that it was magic
or just wind stirrin’ up the sand

and I felt some kind of kinship
as they twisted ‘neath the sun
here to dance across this desert
for a moment then be gone

isn’t all this pain and passion
this restless need to understand
all this striving for the glory
just wind stirrin’ up the sand.