Willows creak in that soil
and I can hear
a tight pack of crickets shudder;
them strange noises rustlin’ up the Mississippi air:
a thick heap of hot honey, ‘rouses the sweat
on our heads;
even though its the dead a night.
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Willows creak in that soil
and I can hear
a tight pack of crickets shudder;
them strange noises rustlin’ up the Mississippi air:
a thick heap of hot honey, ‘rouses the sweat
on our heads;
even though its the dead a night.
