Turning To A Desert Poem by Mark Heathcote
Turning To A Desert
Her tears have woken!
Perched; blackbirds, quenched two, suns.
Her tears have dried and are now dead.
Her tears have flown and washed away-
The underbelly,
Soft silts of clays that lay in her riverbed.
Her tears have left the earth sodden
Her cries have shaken all of heaven.
All's-now dehydrated, turning to a desert
Yet, her barren spell. Has, only just begun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 7:05:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
