Thursday, May 1, 2014


Clouds roll, gray tumbleweed, 
scattering damp dust
across the cerulean pavement of the sky:
the crackle the sun makes as she burns
her slow path through the day
echoes into evening,
dry rain upon the flat dark plain of night.

1 comment:

Maureen said...

This would make a lovely cover for a collection of nature poems.