Drought September 12, 2008Posted by jak in Creative Writing, Life, Poem, Poetry, Writing.
A grapevine did fall with seedlings so small they shriveled to the size of a sip.
Do you know which way the wind will blow when the world is so dry it will rip?
It will cry with the crows as we die in windows,
And the dust settles sweetly with ships.
Shadow settles sweetly and all listen neatly as night drips deeply from day.
As the devil drinks scotch, sipping swiftly from rocks, hell will begin to decay.
When fire jumps to the sky from oceans long dry,
Will apathy at last fall from grace?
© 2004 Argonaut