BailaPoem #11: Seven Thousand Years

in poem •  7 years ago 

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The shadow of drought is increasing
Seven thousand years cycle turns
Tempest for the weeds
and prairie fields, also for us
their hoards, our wrinkles
like a cigar for a magma trough
Tempest for the savannas
O, nirvana
the end of all the stories

poem poetry
7 years ago by

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