Sirocco
Listen to poem:
An ill wind blows
Straight across the land:
You can feel it now.
It’s a desert gale
That dessicates compassion;
A sandstorm
Scouring empathy from the heart.
It’s a parching blast,
A dry sirocco
That burns away kindness.
A wind that turns landscapes
Into arid civic ruin.
Copyright © Jonathan Handel | Year Posted 2016
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