Bones In The Sun

the cracked sky blares crooked and the well is dry
there are children in the dust
they all sing a scattered song
their words are diffused, they corrode like rust.
a dead sparrow's bones don't lie -
a reflection of the sky -
the earth a slim used up man
with a pocketfull of wicked fingers
knows the road yet casually lingers
his feet licking the sand

no shadows now to crouch salvation,
all is well and all is wise.

by Moko Yromem

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