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May 2015
in the sticky summer months
the daylight smells like burning sand

hot air blows over the green creeks
where the flies are born
and the little squirrels leap
from limb to limb

dead dogs lie asleep
on the warm black highway roads
and when the fire of the sun settles down to dusk
the moths bounce against porch lights
so the crickets can sing all night long
Graham C Gibbs
Written by
Graham C Gibbs  Georgia, United States
(Georgia, United States)   
1.5k
     Pradip Chattopadhyay
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