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Rated: E · Poetry · History · #1082592
This poem is a hard one to explain. It is brief, please read!
A painted hieroglyph on decaying papyrus,
scented with Lotus and Sand
reminds our shaking hands
of times when waters flowed North.

With outstretched arms,
we sing praise for Amon-Re,
the next big thing.

We turn our backs
as blistered feet crack and scar.

The flood isn’t coming to spread our seeds this year.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1082592-Drought