Walking Mists

a hamsin, night close and tight,
burdened breathing,
listless and heavy, hovers
insipid mantle unmoving

worried insects crawl out at night
scurrying from nesting place
wondering if their planet
stopped tickng

shocked by the slow rythym
roll out of their hiding places
to find what they can find

homo-erectus weary and tired
keeps to himself to wait out the blight

by shimon weinroth

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