you are daisy-dry, orange washed, maybe bright beige

you are dry sand, dry riverbed like the memory of

long ago water, gurgling through the wastes of far

away inviting grasshoppers thirsty doves scorpions

your fearless dust for its corroding of ones you love -

chipped away at us the keenest axe no pain, more

than a match, more than the twigs, more than that

you are beaufort west sky, daisy-dry, tears cried. cried

seasofme270217