Dust Bowl High
Sunglasses shade me under fig
trees,
Our star weights heavy on a basket
case,
No warm embrace for the northern
forests,
We horde this titan for our own
shores,
Roll and rock and roll your mind to
the vast expanse,
Die inside before your time, before
the reaper calls,
Sticks and stones, stones into bread,
The dust in the is bowl is going to
my head,
Clothed in horrors and horns,
devouring native villages in my path,
A sinister wind propels our ships of
dragon skin,
Colors shift to thoughts, trees to
pillars of salt,
In this, the most unlikely of
platforms for rebirth
Copyright © Jake Bounds | Year Posted 2012
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