The day and her spotting rain
Turning dry embankments
and clear rivers to mud
'Tis the drizzle’s sum of one year
As the night's crickets moan
For the hunter’s meat that clung to my bones
Lay dead of thirst
Untouched nor pursued
beneath this hungry flood
With its cracked lips and blistered tongue
-Susie Edging
3/13/2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
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