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Whispers On the Wasteland

My Rose can be found in the desert, hiding among the cacti. And her hallow voice can be seen tumbling with the weeds. Barren, and dry, her tears come in a storm, flooding the valleys, for only a moment, and swallowed by the vast pores of her hand. These are her whispers, heard haunting ... like dust ... crossing the wasteland.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Date: 7/25/2023 7:23:00 AM
A good poem. Well done.
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Martin Braun
Date: 7/25/2023 8:16:00 AM
Thank you. I just read some of your best poems. They are lovely. Because you enjoy flowers, you might enjoy a short story I wrote, titled "The Black Rose in the Garden." https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_black_rose_in_the_garden_1262815

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