a lone figure crests the dune.
her cloak flaps wildly
behind tossed by
a searing-hot wind.
she shields her eyes
against a blinding glare
and scans the horizon —
but nothing’s
there.
head cocked to one side
she soldiers on, a dark shape
lost in a sea of sand
and bathed by a light
which takes
and can never
give.
(for gao xingjian)
