dried up an wrinkled like a prune
sand dunes on an endless beach
a sky that teases but never delivers
an air moonscape gasping for life
opening up a rich vein to poor water in
scratching the hard earth repeatedly
after that indefatigable itch
but it is all worth it when the soil relents and releases its sweetness at harvest time
a cloudscape he calls it
a universe of fantasmagorical creatures
too big and air for dry land
behemoths ply the oceans of air
the are too big and insubstantial to last long here at dirt level
but they can survive at altitude for weeks on end
Moon Stones...
0 comments:
Post a Comment