The mist swirls around us
thickening deep.
wrapped shadows lost in thought
drink one after another earthenpot
dream on imagined wings
puff unseen smokerings
pierce the fox-dark night
in tobacco spark light
voice in stupored half sleep
debt and hardship
despite clayburnt toil
on the redrock soil
the treacherous seed
growing never to need.
The night looms wearily old
when the last man walks away.
My tea tastes bitter bottom cold.