Dusty air and heavy eyelashes.
Splitting heat that leaves gashes.
A benevolent sun that does too much;
dries up the fodder, the soil and such.
And there is no shade in sight,
no home of mine to hide inside.
The forests burnt to crisp last night.
Those that didn't, were chopped down at twilight.
To farm or to build a home
the reason I will never know.
For it dried and cracked so quick,
tit for tat; the nature's trick.
~29/10/24 EH ©
🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸
Word count - 80
Lines - 8
°•~
°•
°
☆Add the book to your library if you liked the poem☆
YOU ARE READING
Secrets of the Shadows
PoetryShadows are pretty sweet as shade from the afternoon sun yet it is shadows that we fear while out on an evening run. We run away only to realise, they are part of us. Wherever we go, our shadow follows. Except when it's the night and we realise our...
