Thursday, June 04, 2015


Written on the parchment of earth
a weathered, frowning, countenance
bereft of sustaining water
cracks its dry tears
into grieving dust.
The story
 tells of once-upon-a-time
when salving irrigation
withdrew its lubricating benefice.
And now, dried and segmented,
snakes of void
creep across its face.
But we have been here before -
suffering Summer’s shining handshake
and wait for Autumn
to share its generous libation.

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