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 1117 times
Written on 2012-08-09 at 01:42




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