Cycles

I can feel the sigh of the land

Roots drunk on tropical punch

After a summer of sobriety

Watching the withering weak

The survivors drink deep

For within the memory of the land

And all its inhabitants contained

Drought follows flood follows drought

So while we wallow in the mud with the worms

The future beckons with a thirst

Satisfied only in retrospect

 

 

Copyright March 2014.

 

 

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One thought on “Cycles

  1. I love this poem, different from your looser verse; this has a discipline of structure. It all works together–subject, imagery, structure. (I do have a great affection for your free verse style– infectious, often disarming, and wry.) Tess

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