She flew alongside Sahel birds,
Migrating from their summer sedge.
She saw her ocean waves at work,
As autumn surges shaped the coast.
She saw the spread of lights at night,
And scars where scrubland disappeared.
The Sahel cuckoos held their calls.
They saw the marshlands drained and dried.
And further south the deserts spread
With sandstorms burning ever on.
She whirled in dust as dry as death.
Some birds pressed on while others fell.
The deserts scarified their tongues,
They looked to her to flow with song.