In Withered Grey

In the withered grey,

Jets howling, cars grinding by,

Just beyond these trees.

Dragonfly dips low

In a fog of mosquitoes-

Sluicing Rains alight.

Bright orbs of silver

Shine as sunset dissolves cloud-

Prickly Pear donning diamonds,

Lambent in gloaming.




Poetry by Soup in the Sand
Read 1074 times
Written on 2012-08-09 at 01:42

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Morning Star
Interesting poem, full of wonderful contrasts.
I enjoyed your poem very much.
2012-08-09