Brick-dust tumbles
with last reach for light,
choked leaves gasping for air.
Cigarette ends and spiders
come and go
like traffic on the road.
Violet against terracotta,
a Maasai on an African plain -
burning thirst.
Rain drips along
upright canals of grout
slurped by parched roots.
Crinkled buds
like babies’ hands,
drenched, unfold.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
Brick-dust tumbles
with last reach for light,
choked leaves gasping for air.
Cigarette ends and spiders
come and go
like traffic on the road.
Violet against terracotta,
a Maasai on an African plain -
burning thirst.
Rain drips along
upright canals of grout
slurped by parched roots.
Crinkled buds
like babies’ hands,
drenched, unfold.
Request permission to use this poem