An Arabian Knight

A summer morning, fresh and green,
and I went strolling down red canyons.
The day was clear, the colors bright
as half a rainbow. That is, of course,
omitting all the greens and blues
of trees and sky in favor of
fantastic hues of rock that ranged
away on either side of red,
from purple to white and back again.

You never saw such stony shapes,
everything but humans. Well,
at least until I gained the ridge,
and saw in stone an Arabian knight,
his beard and turban deeply etched.
And eyes! Oh, eyes that seemed to gaze
many a hundred leagues away.
But then he turned his gaze to me.

He didn’t deign to speak, of course,
but merely bowed his ancient brow
and then resumed his ancient watch,
silent eyes through silent land.
But he gave to my smile in greeting
a silent smile in reply.
I then resumed my walk. Doubtless
Allah smiled on our meeting.