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Apr 2018
red Sun burns the oceans
beaches left barron
save for bleached bones
of fish large and small
unable to swim deep

when the last of electricity fails
when the water is gone
we all burn in the fireless rapture
Mother has spoken
she has cleared her vines
of withered fruit

the last breath
echoes across the scorched
hauntingly void landscape
the rainclouds move in
oldie
Thomas P Owens Sr
Written by
Thomas P Owens Sr  M/New Market, Va
(M/New Market, Va)   
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