Voices cry in the wilderness
The children call for water
Thirsty, burning lips wet with dust
The sun beats down boulders
Where is the relief? Where is help?
A drought dries thoughts
The wheat is gone, the crops
dead.
Hope is at the horizon, if they can
walk farther, maybe.
Who knew that water would
fail them?
Where is the dark
of shade?
There is nothing
So reach for
dry bones.
Preserve your withering Life
in the laughing wind.
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