Indian Summer
INDIAN SUMMER
Anacreontic Verse
The summer widens
in huffs on the grass
scorching the faces
carrying water
in pitchers, from dry
Indian brooks,dry
sobs stifle the air,
their thirsty husbands
scare away the kites
pouncing on field rats
scurrying, goats dead
in courtyard,tongues
loll licking dead earth,
evening ushers in
storm and trips over
the illusive night
pampered by the folks
telling stories of
famishment,children
sleep and dream mothers.
Anacreontic Verse 4 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ebbs
07/26/2016
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