Thursday, August 22, 2013


There is a thirst here
The land cries out
Wailing, screaming, coughing with no tears
Crisply throated crackles
Heard deep underneath

Hot wind of life's desire
Pushed towards desperation's brink
To thrive is not at the forefront
To exist is thrown upon
Unwillingly accepted in fear of grim fate
As the sounds of the inner bark cells' binding
Drowns out the leaves' thunderous applause
All rejoicing is silenced

The air within becomes dry
And fills the voids
Where moisture once was
Hot breath of sickness
Pushed forth by the blacksmith's bellows amongst the coals
Driven against the flushed face

Grains of sand
Once wet as the shoreline engorged with clams
Sand once soaked as the tidal bay
As the sea recedes under pressure
Now grind and crumble
Against the silt
As the ancient tractor's axle grease
Has been replaced with rust

Now silt envelopes sand
Consolidates and conforms under pressure
A silent rumbling shifts
As the swales form over time
Unnoticed for now
But combined wreak havoc

Further on the roadrunners scurry
As the hares continue to munch
On grasses blasted dry and stunted
That rattle with seeds and stems
And hoof beats as the coyote
Silently creep and gather
To yelp and cry their sorrows on the wind
As the watering holes are few and far between

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