Who listens when the air is sere
and the skin flakes dry as ashes owning
sun kisses in abundance? Humidity
has migrated to chant lost sagas.

Where do the rain gods bathe,
the atmosphere wavering
with heat mirages, lovely
and foreboding, predicting
hot sands and limp flowers?
What summons a rain god better

than the dew of dawn that sings

lullabies at sunset. Who do we blame

for an explosion of cold stars

that refuse  to weep before






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Incompl's picture

Rain, Dew, & Words of Beauty!

Hot sands and limp flowers, astounding imagery. Loved this...

Let your teeth show

allets's picture

Thanks For Visiting Incompl

As humans we are always learning and growing as works in progress until the last breath. Glad you found merit in my offering ~(:D)