Reclaimed by the wind
this hot air, knocked down
hard hand in mine,
lifeless rain leaks from
the clouds, faceless seconds
trickling down
the slopes of a slow hour,
snowcaps slipping into the sea,
descending the ladder of souls,
while fertile land grows arid
in our climbing sun’s vice-like grip.
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: 12019/Pixabay
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