Colors Bleached From Heating Sun Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Colors Bleached From Heating Sun
I see the dust.
I suspect no water falls.
The rusting done,
Supports no life at all.
The air remains stagnant.
Colors bleached from heating Sun.
What had existed seems to have disappeared.
And I've been questioned...
Why I do not embrace this,
As a sign of welcome.
Great writing. I envy the ruts in your brain that enabled you to make this one work so beautifully.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 12:04:39 PM # 1.0.0.1119
because it is of worse things to come