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SOUTHERN CROSSES I
Electric Line's sway,
spider webs of industry
along a rocky lane under
a hot southern sun, cicada…
cry high, into the crystal blue sky
We are a ghost nation
of Man’s hypocrisy
crossing shadows under a hard
noonday sky.
The empty road under the leaning
Electric crosses of civilization
Shadows fall, carving silhouettes into
Upon hitting noonday ground
Humanity lost all reason
Along a rocky, dusty road
As day bleeds into a hot
Southern night
Crickets cry high
As the moon rides the
White galleons of cloudscapes
As star falls in infernal southern sky
Frogs sing the song of endless rain
As electric crosses lean
Under the halogen of streetlights
Crosses stand, lean to and fro
Like graves of the day
Souls drift and sway
As a nation is lost along the way
Bought and sold
While electric crosses align
A forgotten road
Of a Nowhere nation, undone…
Watching all fold…!
Copyright ©
Poet Tellaferro
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