Life around bores
beyond human cognition.
Showers are yesterday's and
Spring feasts are long gone
drawing in its place, an ochre sun
Pit had dried up from a squashy
wet blanket to wet patch on a clay urn..
Squeezing me to the frugal space
between the cracks of a parched land
Speculating descent of an acid rain,
to feel her tongue on mine, decolor
to let her wither me back to mud
or I shall, at the hands of
another winter..
