Friday, September 10, 2010

BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBL...

BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBL...: "BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBL...: 'BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: BAREFOOT RAMBLES: POETRY IN TH..."


The drone of Dragonflies the bleating of the sheep a strange
awakening

The wells have run dry men women children dot the
swampy salt lake

Chasing the mirage in the cruel April Inferno the village
elders smoke their pipes

Other beings in the Great Salt Lake Stretch pan the salt

Women looking aslance at the sky for rains

Some one mutters Rains in the nearby village Hope

Pitchers dry out parched throats the sky laden with cirrus
floss

Lightning pitter patter a faint drizzle the village now
drenched

A mirage or was it really rain

The gentry come out the older women circle around all
night songs sung of devotion

Invoking beseeching cajoling the prolonged drizzle The
Sky bursts Brilliant Sunshine

Hope is the hope of the Helpless caught stuck prolonging
lives

Brackish water blues

Salt lake hymns

Rural mileu sit cross legged stunned by the Sunshine

No respite Mercy from no quarters

The Ghost village echoes the Drought Drum Beat

Caracases of milch rags and feathers

Dead birds

Morbidity knocks at every door

Did we say Green Nah

Brown earth greenish water of what is left

Zen and the Art of Dying

Someone rings up the Maker

Horizontal perceptions and vertical feelinngs

Look at the Maize

Keep looking at it

Until Habit be it and there on the Horizon

The Vultures are Coming at you

Somewhere someplace somehow can somebody

Let it Be Let it Pain

The night is still strong

There is still hope for it to

Fall on the Chosen Ones

All things must pass

Come sing the Desert Drone Blues

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