New World by Megan Russo

The quicksand lake waited on the edge of town,
Still until the breeze slithered through the trees,
Wind dancing through the fine grains,
Terraforming a new landscape across the surface,
Shaping sands into mountains and valleys,
Continents,
Countries,
And tiny Cities,
A land so far beyond my own,
With endless wonder I’d watch it grow,
Higher, then deeper that I ever could imagine,
Building and building,
A brand new world,
So beautiful,
Yet oh so deadly.

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