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Poetry: “Drought”

How ironic that a literal drought period inspires poetry while experiencing creative drought. (At least, I think it’s ironic?)



My mind it is
A barren ground
Like lawns outside
In need of rain
No fecund soil
To harvest words
The skies have dried
It all to dust
I stand here waiting
For the rain
The blessed life
To sink in deep
To soften ground
Beneath my feet
When drought will end
And words will flow


Copyright © 2018 · All Rights Reserved · Fantasy Transcendent

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