the wind whistling,

the sand shifting,

the sun beating down on the golden grains, we’d be surprised if it didn’t melt into glass right then and there.

there grows a shrub,

some kind of plant,

we can’t really tell what kind of plant it is, because we’re not florists or herbalists or gardeners, and also, what does it matter, because it’s the desert and it’s lucky that it’s still alive.

alas! the wind got too strong,

the plants weak and useless roots give in,

it begins rolling across the dunes like some kind of stupid tumbleweed, so helpless and idiotic, one half an ugly marshy green color, the other a gross brown shade.

it rolls for days,

maybe weeks, i don’t know,

now this dumb shrub-thing is all-around brown, and it’s so incredibly brittle that if you were to touch it it would probably collapse like a dramatic little piece of… nevermind.

“where are we going with this”

good question,

the moral of the story is that desert shrubs are weak, their bloodline is weak, and they deserve to tumble uselessly through the arid lands for eternity.