A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course).
Thank you, Allan Charles. I've contested the Charlie Chaplin thing a couple of times, won once, if I remember correctly. But it's the kind of thing I try when bored and have nothing better to do - just doesn't seem to have happened lately.
The summer heat sits heavy in Oklahoma,
broad the bleached blue bowl above,
succumbs the silent grass to mere survival,
thin and thirsty, withered on the sun-baked earth,
spreads the empty plain to hazed horizon,
flattened by the turgid, lifeless air,
blued by desiccated distance, misty, insubstantial,
the land bleeds into atmosphere.
Urgent to the heartless heavens,
pleading for the cooling rain,
twirling dust devils do the dance unguided,
swirling dirt and twigs and leaves,
tiny tornado mimics in the grip of circling winds,
calling for the balm of storms.
Line count: 14
Free verse
For Promptly Poetry Challenge 4, Week 2
Prompt: Summer Haze.
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