Poet Tellaferro Poet Free verse

We Dream of Rain I

We dream of rain 
in a dry season 
under the setting sun
We harvest bitter grains, 
Embittered flesh.
Under a tyrannical son, 
we dream of rain in a harsh summer of discontent. 
We watch the harsh mistress of the empirical sun. 
The seeding of the plains 
a White House on desert sands. 
Where a figure fighting the storms stands
in a black dress in a bone-white land. 
The reapers machine burns on the horizon edge
The cold hard weight of a gun. 
My spirit has fled, my wound had bled
We dwell in a madding season in some American empire…

Reprise I

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Poet Tellaferro October 17, 2021 at 7:27 PM I am starting to post old fragments of old stories, they are not good prolly need some help from heaven in editing. But, they are a trip down my history. Maybe I will resurrect the story and give it life once again. Who knows? Can’t manufacture time.