I like to study the forms of things, especially those created by the action of the winds. Take the barchan, that gritty croissant whose dynamic moves threaten roads, railways and communications or can trap a woman of the dunes. It migrates, grain by grain, rising up the gentle slope of a convex arc to the crest of a well-sorted ridge, only to fall down the slip-face lying at the angle of repose. The horns of a dilemma continue, the inexorable march of progress engulfs anything in its path, passing over and leaving behind. Too many granules and they link up to form transverse ridges which migrate on, the drifting sands a soliton, more than just a wave, each particle traveling. What lies beneath the shifting surface, hidden now, will be revealed in time. Wherever there is sand and a constant motive force of wind or water there are barchans—in earthy deserts, on Mars, underneath the sea.
Rohan Buettel lives in Canberra, Australia. His haiku have appeared in various Australian and international journals (including Frogpond, Cattails and The Heron’s Nest). His longer poetry recently appears in The Elevation Review, Rappahannock Review, Penumbra Literary and Art Journal, Mortal Magazine, Passengers Journal, Reed Magazine, Meniscus and Quadrant.