It is dry here
and the forests
are a thirsty
yellow sea.
And the sun
is a sweater
that no one
can remove.
And they say
the mountains
are on fire, but
there is no water.
THe dogs are in heat,
barking like trumpets,
and the cock crows
just after 10 o'clock.
Here, no one remembers morning.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
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