Sound of A Scorched Month (Poem)

in this here at this now so much noise

air itself vibrates and hums

counterpoint to the rising drone of heat

the occasional wind a parched threnody

in chorus with barren hillsides

trail once buttressed with foliaged arches

no longer a quiet refuge

brittle leaves in the coal dust underfoot

each step rustles these premature bones

a creek a well a desperate hope for rain

the distant memory of silence

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