Martin Braun Poet Free verse

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.

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Daisy Meadows July 25, 2023 at 7:23 AM A good poem. Well done. Martin Braun July 25, 2023 at 8:16 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